


Hail Hydra

by Chicken_Nuggets800



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Multi, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, percy needs a hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicken_Nuggets800/pseuds/Chicken_Nuggets800
Summary: Captain America, the super soldier, war hero, the first avenger. Bucky Barnes, Steve's best friend. Until he died that is. But we all know now that he never really died. He was taken by HYDRA and experimented on. Turned into the Winter Soldier. But during the time the Avengers were breaking apart, fighting against each other, they found out that there were more Winter soldiers. Men and women turned into super soldiers, people even stronger than Bucky, the first Winter Soldier, with power that could rival even Captain America himself. But when they later raided the base, they found every one of them dead. What they didn't know was that years ago, one of them had escaped. One Winter Soldier still alive. One Winter Soldier that could rival Captain America. One Winter Soldier with the power of the gods in his hands.And this Soldier's name is Percy Jackson.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting on Ao3. This book was previously on Wattpad, and I decided to put it here as well as a tester :3 So please don't judge too harshly just yet.

The room was dark and cold, a sense of unspoken dread filling the atmosphere. Every time anyone breathed out, it curled and frosted out in front of them in visible clouds. Only a few people were in the relatively small room, everyone silent and staring towards the center unblinkingly. 

A teenage boy sat in a metal chair in the middle of the room, arms and legs restrained. He had a wooden bite guard in his mouth, dark bags visible under his eyes. A fine sheen of sweat shone on his exposed chest and arms, despite the almost freezing temperature in the dimly lit room. His head was drooped low, limbs trembling slightly and hands clenched against the arm rests. One of the few scientists approached him, pulling the machinery away from his head and taking the mouth piece out. A second scientist came forward as well to check his vitals. 

"Everything worked accordingly." He said, looking up at one man in particular; a Hydra General. He simply nodded once, walking towards the slowly recovering teenager. He picked up a red book on the way, barely glancing at the star on the front as he opened it. 

The few soldiers in the room still had their guns trained on the boy, simply as insurance in case he broke free and fought back. He had been known to start remembering certain things occasionally, calling for another memory erase.

"Траур." Red Skull spoke, reading from a red book. The dark haired teenager felt a spasm run through his body at the Russian word. 

"Распад." He clenched his jaw, his teeth gritted. 

"Предупреждение." His hands tightened into fists, his wrists chained to the metal chair he was sitting on. 

"Сумерки." His green eyes squeezed shut, trying to block the words out.

"Шестнадцать." He let out an animalistic growl, shaking his head, his black hair messy and tousled. 

"Злокачественная." He started breathing heavily, writhing beneath his chains and shackles. 

"Семь." A bead of sweat dripping down his face. 

"Лагерь." The man stopped before the teenager. The green eyed boy's muscles flexed from the words. 

"Три." His arms struggled against his metal bonds, not caring that it dug into his skin, making him bleed. His body and muscles strained visibly as he tried to break the chains. 

"Главная." With a loud snap, the chains fell away and he stood up, his face blank and emotionless, his once kind and humorous eyes dead and devoid of any emotion. The man watched him carefully, fully aware of every single move he made.

"Солдат?" He asked firmly.

"Готов к выполнению." He answered monotonously, his voice cold and emotionless.

The man stepped forward, closing the book. "I have a new mission for you."


	2. Chapter 1

A teenager sat alone at a table in a cafe, a half empty cup of coffee in front of him. A TV was playing from behind the counter, a teenage girl at the register. The smell of coffee beans filled the air, a mild chattering buzzing from the other customers. The boy leaned his head back, revelling in the sunlight streaming through the clear window he sat next to. His eyes opened once again, focusing on the television now. He could vaguely hear the voice of a reporter coming from the speakers. His keen senses could make out what she was saying. She stood in front of a half destroyed building, debris and rubble littering the ground behind her and clouds of dust sifting through the air.

"-here at the Rockefeller Center, where the Avengers have struck again. After apprehending the criminals, and destroying a good portion of one of the buildings, they fled the scene, just as they have many times before; disappearing off the face of the earth. Where have they gone? No one knows, but it is certain that they will come again-" The boy snorted softly, his sea green eyes moving away from the screen. He picked up his paper cup and drained the contents in a few big gulps. He then noticed the number written on the cup, with the name Holly underneath it. He rolled his eyes, putting the cup down and standing up. He walked out of the little cafe, the soft breeze now pulling at his already messy black hair. He put his hands in his hoodie pockets and started walking down the street. He was somewhere in America. From all his travelling, he barely remembered where he was anymore. It had all become a blur of countries to him.

He felt a tingling sensation run through his body and he knew it was his sixth sense warning him of something. But he didn't break his stride, or lose his calm composure. He glanced over slightly at a shop window, looking at the reflection rather than the contents of the store. A man and a woman, both wearing dark suits, sunglasses and earpieces, were following behind him. So obvious. His eyes scanned over the street, pausing on a group of tourists on the other side of the road. He picked out another two agents, both decked in Hawaiian shirts, shorts and sandals. Another he found wearing a tracksuit, a phone held against her ear as she pretended to speak. Percy wanted to scoff at their weak attempts of disguises, especially since all three had their hands resting on their hidden gun holsters. A glint of silver caught his attention from the second floor of a building further ahead of him. When he looked closer, he could see the barrel of a gun peeking out of the open window. A sniper. He located another two snipers in the buildings around him. There was an alley a few metres ahead of him, which he assumed another few agents were waiting. An ambush.

He stopped, his face blank now. He could tell that all of the agents were tensing, reaching for their concealed guns. He took out his cell phone and plugged in his earphones. The two following him advanced slowly, trying to be stealthy. He scrolled through the songs, pressing his finger on Fallout Boy's 'My songs know what you did in the dark'. The Nightstep version of the song started playing in his ears, blocking out the sounds of anything else around him. He looked up, remaining relaxed as the first man pulled out a gun-a standard Glock 19-and put it behind his head. The agent's finger pulled the trigger.

_Be careful making wishes in the dark, dark_

He ducked under it, whirling around before the man could comprehend what had happened, grabbing the mans wrist and and striking at his elbow, making him drop the weapon with a pained cry.

_Can't be sure when they've hit their mark_

He spun on his heel, delivering a sharp elbow strike to the other person's temple, a woman, followed by a punch to the back of her neck, downing her immediately.

_And besides in the mean-meantime I'm just dreaming of tearing you apart_

The three agents in disguises ran towards them, guns now in their hands.

_I'm in the de-details with the devil_

He didn't hear the sounds of people around him screaming and panicking over the song, bringing his leg up in a high kick, hitting the hand of one of the men, who dropped his gun in return.

_So now the world can never get me on my level_

He blocked a punch from another female agent, giving three back in quick recession before she could recuperate.

_I just got to get you out the cage_

He grabbed the last man's arm and pushed it to the side, a shot going off next to his head.

_I'm a young lovers rage_

He twisted around grabbing the man's gun, then slammed his palm into his chest and sent him flying backwards.

_Gonna need a spark to ignite_

He leaned to the side as a bullet shot towards his face, missing him by only millimeters.

_My songs know what you did in the dark_

He stood still for a moment, his eyes flickering from each of his assailants.

_So light em up up up_

He jumped forward into a handstand, pushing his arms outwards as he flipped back to his feet in order to dodge a bullet shot at him.

_Light em up up up_

He twisted his body around, the second bullet just missing his shoulder.

_light em up up up_

The bullet from the last sniper raced over his head when he dropped into a crouch.

_I'm on fire_

His finger curled around the trigger of the gun in his hand as he stood up, knowing the snipers were trying to reload as quickly as possible.

_So light em up_

He shot the first man coming towards him again in the neck within less than a second, before moving on to the woman who was staggering to her feet.

_up_

She fell, a hole in her chest.

_up_

The last man collapsed, a bullet in his head. His eyes moved to the three men running towards him, the ones that had been hiding in the alley.

_Light em up_

He shot the first one down, gun recoiling and muzzle flashing with each pull of the trigger.

_up_

The second went down with a gutteral cry. The continuous back and forth movement of the gun's slide sent him into an overwhelming sense of familiarity.

_up_

The last man fell, a coin shaped wound through his chest. He turned, immediately spotting the three snipers still reloading their rifles from various buildings. He lifted his arm, aiming with precision that could only come from years of practice.

_Light em up_

The first sniper fell with a strangled yelp and he moved his sightings to the next.

_up_

The second sniper fell from the window, landing on the concrete with a sickening crack, a bullet in his leg. He moved his gun one last time.

_up_

The last sniper died silently, slumping half out of the window he had been standing in front of.

_I'm on fire._

He hummed the words at the same time with the music.

_Ooh oh oh oh_

He dropped the gun, looking around at the scene surrounding him.

_In the dark, dark_

Bodies littered the area, blood seeping on the floor all around him. The street was now empty, as everyone had already fled.

_Ooh oh oh oh_

Police and ambulance sirens echoed in the distance, getting closer every second. He just put his hands back into his pockets, walking down the street as if nothing had happened.

_In the dark, dark_

. . .

A man coughed, choking on his own blood. He knew he was dying. The ambulance would be too late to save him. The bullet in his chest sent waves of agony throughout his body. He knew the bullet had pierced his lung, and that he was either going to drown in his own blood or bleed out. His hand reached feebly at his cell phone. He slowly dialled a number, his blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. As he coughed, drops of red splattered over the screen. He could hear the phone ringing for a moment, before someone picked it up.

"Agent Thompson?" The person on the other end answered. "Mission report."

"T-Target..." He managed to croak through his parched throat. He coughed once more, his eyes slowly closing.

"Agent Thompson? Thompson? Can you hear me?"

"P-P..." He tried again to form the words. "P-P-Perseus h-has es-es-es...caped..." He managed to get out, his eyes now closed and his mind going fuzzy.

"Agent Th... pso... ambulance... way... try to...." He drifted in and out of consciousness, until he finally let his mind drift away as he took his final breath. "Agent... Agent Thompson...? Thompson!"


	3. Chapter 2

Tony Stark sat on a lavishly expensive leather couch, a crystal scotch glass in his hand. There was not much of the honey coloured liquid left, and every time he moved it would swish entrancingly around, catching his attention every time. He sat quietly as he stared at the alcohol, taking sips occasionally. His mind was completely elsewhere however. The new base was almost completely silent-save for the soft hum of electricity. To most it would be relaxing and soothing, but to him... To him it only served as a painful reminder of what he lost. Everything that mattered to him most of all.

His team, his friends, his _family_. He remembered everything like it had been yesterday; the debate on whether or not they should sign the Sokovia Accord, finding James Buchanan Barnes, half his team turning on him, finding out that James had killed his parents, and worst of all... losing the only other family he had. Yes, he had Rhodey, Vision, Natasha, Thor, and T'Challa, but both Vision and T'Challa were not people he would consider friends. And Natasha _had_ betrayed him after all, to allow Steve and James to escape. Rhodey-seemingly his only friend left-was still on the road to recovery. He of course spared no expense on his treatment to help him, getting the best doctors and medication that money could buy. Thor was still out of world at the moment. God knows where and what the hell he was doing when his team actually needed him. When _he_ needed him. Even Bruce was still under the radar-as if he had disappeared off of the face of the earth. Oh, and the new kid, Peter, was barely even on a first name basis with him yet. Plus he had turned down a position as an Avenger. Had it really come to the point where not even a hyperactive fifteen year old would want to join a team of superheroes?

He sighed deeply and took another long swig at the liquid, desperately craving the happy buzz enough of it brought and the faint burning sensation that came as it went down his throat. All he wanted nowadays was to forget everything with enough alcohol. To forget the fact that he had been the one to finally disband his own team. The man who destroyed the Avengers. They had survived Thor's psychotic brother, an army of aliens destroying New York, even a deranged robot army-granted that was of his own making. And yet... This was what finally tore them apart. His own guilt and supposedly justified choices. He hated himself for it. Steve had promised that if he ever needed them, they'd be there to help. Somehow that only made Tony's anger against him and his friend grow. But as much as he wanted to hate him... He could never. Steve had been his teammate. His friend. He could never hate him, because... He would have done the same thing for him or anyone else on the team.

He almost dropped his glass at the sharp, sudden sound of his cellphone's ringtone going off. He lazily patted around his pockets in search of the ringing device with a few choice swear words. He eventually found it and glanced at the number: Unknown. He sighed again and swiped his finger across the screen, holding it against his ear.

"What?" He asked, irritation clear in his voice towards the unknown caller that had disturbed his thoughts-and drinking. 

"Stark?" He identified the voice immediately as Thaddeus Ross. The man who basically owned him at the moment. The man that he despised more than Barnes himself. More than he despised himself, in fact.

"What?" He repeated in annoyance. 

"I've got a new mission for you, and possibly Rhodes." Tony just grunted in reply, slouching back against the couch and taking a small sip from the glass, before realising with a mixture of frustration and regret that he had already finished it. "You will need to find and take down-in any way possible-someone for me. He has committed several crimes, and needs to be taken out. Our efforts so far have been futile." Tony frowned, slowly digesting what he was saying. Taken out. It hurt him more than he cared to admit that he knew he had become the government's attack dog, while he had been biased towards Barnes for being the same for Hydra.

"I'm not-" He forcefully stopped himself, a war raging inside of himself. I'm not a murderer...

"Not what?" Thaddeus' voice came again, a warning tone to his voice.

"-not sure Rhodey will be able to make it." He finished lamely with a silent sigh of resignation. "Where is this guy?"

"Manhattan. He was last seen at a small coffee shop named Abraço. I'll send you the details now. You'll leave tomorrow." As always, no room for discussion. No room for arguing. No room for a choice. Finding nothing better to do with his time, he reached for the remote and switched on the TV-a large, overly expensive and extravagant thing that he barely used anyway. Immediately the image of a blonde reporter appeared on screen, a grim look on her pretty face. Behind her was what looked to be a crime scene, with yellow tape cordoning off the area. And although he could only see the background vaguely, the sight made him frown. Multiple body bags were cast along the ground, blood staining sections of the road an almost brownish-red colour, and bullet casings could be seen littering the floor. He turned the volume up, his curiosity and interest peaked.

"-today has been a tragic day, with the body count higher than we have seen in months. While the unknown criminal involved in the massacre is still at large, the police are confident that they will catch him. He was last seen wearing a black hoodie and jeans, although no bystanders were able to identify him or see his face. What started the gunfight, we don't know. But the results have left almost a dozen unknown people dead. Who is this mystery murderer? And why has he committed this atrocious act? Find out more at-" He muted the television again, frowning deeply. This bothered him immensely. He hadn't been there to save those people... But he could've. His eyes caught on a dark figure in the background of the scene though, an expression of confusion flashing over his features. He could see a man, dressed smartly in a suit, standing behind the police tape above a black body bag.

Tony's dark eyes widened fractionally as the man turned around. "Is that... Ross?" He murmured, mainly to himself though. Before he could make sure though, he turned around and walked out of view again. If he was involved with this, would that mean the killer was the guy he had ordered him to go after? Was this why he was sending him to take him out? If so, then he understood why he had ordered him to take him out. He was a dangerous murderer. He couldn't be out on the streets. He chewed on the inside of his cheek slowly, not noticing his actions. Perhaps he should be leaving tonight instead of tomorrow... Just to get a headstart. "FRIDAY, get me all information about any gunfights in the city today." He ordered, his words surprisingly sharp and taut considering how much he had had to drink that evening. After a few moments of wordless electric humming, a holographic screen lit up from the band he wore on his wrist. It showed countless newspaper articles, YouTube videos, live reports, and social media messages. His gaze scanned across it slowly. He had a lot of research to do.

. . .

Perseus smiled tightly at the young man who handed him his bag of groceries, a soft 'Thank you' automatically leaving his lips. He walked away from the bored man chewing gum at the counter disgustingly, hiding back the urge to grimace at his dishevelled and... Honestly grimy appearance. Then again, he didn't expect much else coming from an old, small grocery shop like that. He walked down the street, ignoring the few people that walked past him on their ways to their own dull lives-although he was on the lookout. He was always on the lookout. He had to be in order to survive. His oceanic eyes flicked over their faces and body language for a few seconds each before dubbing them harmless, much to his relief. He didn't want to blow his cover further with more deaths at his hand. He did _not_ need that right now.

He adjusted the light bag in his hands in order to be able to push the door to a large apartment building open. The lobby was tiny and the elevator had broken down a long time ago; cordoned off with yellow tape for safety. Not that he minded much though-stairs were often more practical than elevators when it came to fighting or escaping. He took the stairs two at a time, moving past the many floors quickly to avoid confrontation with the other current residents. He crinkled his nose at the assault on his nose, the smell of bad cooking, numerous drugs, and heavy alcohol wafting together from the small apartments throughout each story. Shouting and music could be heard prominently as well. But he ignored it all and continued his path upwards. 

He stopped at the door to the small apartment he had been renting for the past two weeks, unlocking it with his free hand. A door-with the glass smashed seemingly a long time ago-at the end of the hallway opened, and a woman stepped out, causing Percy's eyes to flicker over to her for a second suspiciously. She was quite pale, with dark eyes and even darker hair. They stared at each other for a few moments, before he opened the door and looked away.

"You new here?" She asked, folding her arms over her chest as she stared at him. 

Percy sighed and looked back at her. Damn. He had been caught by a neighbour. "Yeah, I am." He tried to make his tone as cut off as possible so that hopefully she wouldn't continue the conversation. His hopes however were shattered as she walked towards him.

"Jessica. Jessica Jones. Your neighbour apparently." She held out a hand for him. He bit back a sigh as he used his free hand to shake hers, noting that she had a strong grip. Her eyes flickered over his hand for a moment, studiously taking in the scars visible on them. He didn't know what it was about her, but something screamed _danger_. 

"Percy Jackson." He answered simply, retracting his hand again. "If you'll excuse me, I've got groceries to pack away." He tried to excuse himself from any further talking.

Jessica watched him for a few moments and he could see a vague hint of suspicion in her eyes. "Right." She started walking back to her apartment again without another word. Formalities but no friendliness. He could deal with that. He sighed in slight relief, stepping inside his crappy apartment and shutting the door behind him; making sure to lock it. There was something... Off about his neighbor, but he couldn't tell what it was. He pushed the thought away for now though and headed towards the tiny kitchen, setting the bag down on the counter. He ran his fingers through his already messy hair absentmindedly, deciding to unpack the groceries later rather. He walked out of the kitchen, making his way around the whole of the small apartment, checking that every window was still locked, that nothing at all had been touched, and that there were absolutely no intruders hiding somewhere-however unlikely that would be. But he had to be careful. Once he was sure, he headed towards the bedroom. The dingy apartment still stank of the lingering scent of drugs, but he could deal with that. Apparently the old tenant was an ex-drug addict, but he couldn't be too sure. That's what the landlord had told him anyway.

Bed still neatly made and the bland curtains covering the closed windows, he flicked on the light to illuminate the bedroom. Just as he had left it. Exactly as he had left it.

With a weary sigh, he sat himself on the edge of his bed, debating silently on what to do. He shrugged to himself, grabbing ahold of the remote for the small, old TV on the even older shelf in the corner of the room. The screen blurred and went static-y for a few moments, before the bad quality image cleared up a bit, revealing a female reporter standing in front of the street that he had been walking through just earlier that day. Well, not particularly walking...

"-the unknown criminal involved in the massacre is still at large, the police are confident that they will catch him." He clenched his jaw, internally cursing himself for his stupidity. He shouldn't have killed all those agents in such an obvious place. It was practically begging for attention. Unfortunately, it had been kill or be killed, so he hadn't been paying much attention to his surroundings. What a foolish, rookie mistake to make. It seemed he was getting rusty. He continued to watch the screen with rapt attention though, his face turning into a grimace with every word she spoke.

"He was last seen wearing a black hoodie and jeans, although no bystanders were able to identify him or see his face. What started the gunfight, we don't know. But the results have left almost a dozen unknown people dead. Who is this-" With a violent outburst of swear words, he roughly pressed down on the button again, switching the seemingly ancient TV off again. He couldn't listen to any more of it. He had been stupid. Damn.

He stood up suddenly, needing to do... To do _something_ to help relax him; even if it was a tiny thing. He paused for a moment, before heading towards the kitchen. Maybe cooking could help him. Even though he barely ever had the time to do so, he was surprisingly good at cooking. His cookies were to die for as well. A soft, derisive snort left his throat at that.

_'All SHIELD needed to do to capture me was to tempt me with one of those.'_ He thought sarcastically, a bitter smile stretching across his face. _'Ah, if only my life was that easy...'_

The thought of those blue cookies caused his heart to pang with grief, although he couldn't remember why. Maybe that was why his heart ached whenever he thought about or made the sweet treats. Maybe it was because he couldn't remember how he had gotten the recipe. He couldn't remember when he had started making them. He just couldn't remember. And that killed him a little bit inside.

He couldn't remember if he had once had a family. He couldn't remember if he had friends. He couldn't remember anything from his past. No mother, no father, no home, no pets. Nothing. The last thing he had remembered was... Getting captured by SHIELD and experimented on. Missions. So, so many missions. He knew that they had done something to his memories; as if erasing his entire past. Washing him every time he did something he wasn't supposed to. Remembered something he shouldn't. What he didn't know was why he had regained certain memories and knowledge-but nothing from his time before SHIELD. Nothing. He had tried everything he could to get those memories back, but to no avail. Every time he tried to think into his past, he would get mind shattering headaches and nosebleeds. Side effects perhaps? But why, he could not tell that either. So he decided not to delve into the subject too deeply anymore. He barely had the time for it anyway.

With an unsatisfied noise in the back of his throat, he started to pack his groceries away into the empty cupboards. Perhaps that mundane task would keep his ADHD mind from straying and wandering away. He wouldn't be staying there too long, he knew that already, but he would at least hopefully get to stay there for at least a week. He wanted some time to just relax, and get away from his problems.

Knowing his luck though, he would not be that fortunate.


	4. Chapter 3

Percy sat up, instantly wide awake, his eyes piercing through the darkness of his apartment room. Curtains were covering the few windows, tiny slivers of silvery moonlight escaping through the material. Even through the shadows in the small and darkened room, Percy could see better than most. But what had awoken him was the very faint sound of metal against metal. His eyes darted to the lock on the door, where he stayed until he saw the circular handle very slowly move, almost unnoticeably to the untrained eyes. Percy was out of bed and ready to fight within seconds. He felt wide awake, as if he hadn't been asleep less than a minute ago, wearing only the pants he slept in. His body was tense yet relaxed, coiled like a snake, ready to strike at any moment. He slowly walked towards the door, his bare feet making no sound on the old, wooden floor. Just earlier that week, when he had first moved in, he had memorized every spot on the floor that creaked when stepped on. 

He moved to the side of the door frame, pressing his bare back against the wall, waiting for the intruder to come in. The handle stopped moving, and Percy could hear the very stealthy sounds of footsteps. But not stealthy enough. The door slowly swung inwards without a sound; they had obviously oiled the hinges. The first mistake they took was not being quiet enough. The second mistake was holding the gun-an MP5-aimed forward, so Percy could see the gun before the person walked through the door. His arm lunged forward, grabbing the barrel of the gun and ripping it forward. The soldier was pulled forward and Percy slammed the butt of the weapon back again, cracking it against his chest. The momentum of the strike pushed the man backwards and to the ground, winding him as well.

"Open fire!" One of them barked. Percy dove to the side as bullets ripped through the thin wall he had just been standing at. Shredded wallpaper streamed through the air and over him as he ducked behind his bed. He dropped on his back and reached underneath the bed. He grabbed the AK-47 strapped to the underside, as well as the backpack containing everything he needed when on the run. Money, different identities and passports, weapons, extra ammo, untraceable cards, disposable phones. Basic stuff, really. He threw the backpack to the side, loading the gun with practised ease. 

He noticed the shooting had stopped, and knew they were approaching. He peeked up from behind the bed, sending a short burst of fire at the doorway. He could hear them scuttling away, expecting him to fire again. He grabbed a short sleeved shirt, quickly slipping it over himself, before putting the backpack over his shoulders. By this time, the soldiers had become braver and were advancing once again. He swiftly slipped his feet into a pair of Vans, knowing this might be the last time in a while he'd be able to get some things. When on the run, you can't afford to grow attached to things.

"Perseus! Surrender now or we will shoot!" Someone called. Percy rolled his eyes, shrugging off his backpack and digging in it.

"All right, all right. You got me." He called back, bringing out a grenade and instead dropping the AK to the floor. "I'm surrendering. Totally surrendering." He held the bag strap with one hand and the grenade with the other. He brought it to his mouth and pulled the pin out with his teeth. "Incoming!" He called, the pin still between his teeth as he threw it outside the door, where it bounced towards the others. He spat it out and rushed towards the closest window.

"Grenade!" Someone yelled and he heard everyone dive for cover. Percy used this time to smash out the window with his elbow. The window shattered into dozens of tiny pieces, falling down onto the floor and down the side of the building. As he cleared the jagged pieces of glass with his hand, not caring if he got cut in the process, one of the soldiers spoke out uncertainly as the grenade stayed the same,

"Is it a dud?" He heard a few approach it, before an explosion rocked the room. Even from the distance he was at, the force of it threw him against the window _hard_. A pained grunt escaped him, heat searing his back. Without looking back, he knew the place was on fire. He climbed through the window, crouching down on the window sill for a moment, before leaping off. When he had rented the place, he had been mindful that he would need multiple escape routes, so he had been sure to get one close to the next building over so he could escape over the rooftops. Which came in pretty handy for situations like now. He fell through the air, twisting so his body was almost vertical. As he landed, he bent his knees and rolled forward to lessen the impact. His ankles and feet still hurt from the impact, but the pain wasn't bad enough to hinder him. He took off running immediately, aware of the shouting going on somewhere behind him. He looked over his shoulders momentarily, taking everything in with one quick glance. He could see soldiers cluttered at the destroyed window, but they didn't seem to be able to get through-or even make the jump. He could see smoke rising up from the window, golden-red flames licking the inside of the dingy apartment. And he could see the face of his ex-neighbour Jessica Jones staring out from her apartment window, her expression twisted with both confusion and shock. He looked forward almost immediately again though, ignoring everything going on behind him. He came to a sudden stop though as a red and gold robot like suit landed in front of him with a whir of machinery.

Anthony Edward Stark. Alias: Ironman. 

The hero lifted his arm, the palm of his metal suit crackling with the energy of the repulsor. "Stand down, Perseus." He ordered.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that. You know it just as much as I do." He answered, getting his breathing steady once again.

"If you surrender now, I can try and make a deal. You won't be killed." He tried to reason.

"And then what? Instead I'd be imprisoned for the rest of my life." He replied, bitterness finding its way into his words.

"Look, you're just a kid-"

"-who's in way over his head?" He finished for him, shaking his head. "I may be a teenager, but I'm not a kid. I've never had the privilege of being one." His eyes scanned over the other as they warily circled each other. A thought flickered into his mind, and, obeying his gut instinct, he went with it. "Does it hurt you?" He asked. He could almost feel Stark frowning at the question.

"Does what hurt?"

"The fact that you know you've become the government's lap dog." Percy shot back, trying to distract him. Tony stared at him, and if he hadn't been wearing his helmet, the other would've been able to see his fierce glare.

"I'm no one's bitch." He countered lowly.

"Oh but you are." His voice was softer now, almost silky as he spoke. "The men up at the top own you. Because you didn't trust your team and signed the contract." The hero visibly faltered in his footsteps.

"How did you-"

"Find out?" The teenager interrupted again. "It was impossible not to. The news were all over it." He tilted his head. "But honestly, how does it feel? Knowing that every time Thaddeus Ross sends you on any mission, it's only to make you feel important. To make you feel... Like you still have a choice. Even without your precious team." He could almost feel the regret, guilt, and anger coming from the older man. Even without seeing his face, he could tell that the comment had hit home.

"Who are you?" Tony only replied with, an obvious attempt to change the subject.

His question only made him clench his jaw though, eyes lighting up with vague annoyance. "You know who I am." Tony only shook his head, his palm drooping slightly to aim more at his legs. Percy took in this sign of weakness immediately, but chose not to do anything about it. Yet.

"No, who _are_ you? I couldn't find anything about you besides your age and name. There are no files of you in SHIELD; I've searched. I know. There's nothing."

"I'm no one." He replied, a bitter smile appearing on his face. "I'm a ghost. I don't exist anymore."

The air fell silent between them for a while, a silent stand off between the two of them. A hero and a criminal. An adult and a teenager. Someone important, and no one at all. "We can work together." 

This caused the him to scoff indignantly. "I'm a murderer, Stark. I've done things that would make you sick to your stomach." Was he only being merciful because of his age? Was that it?

"But people change."

"Like you?" This made Tony pause, his arm raising once again after a brief moment of hesitation.

"This is the last time I can offer you a choice." Tony got out. "Surrender now, or I _will_ be forced to fight you."

"I'm sorry, Tony. I really am. But there's no going back now. It's kill or be killed, and I'm afraid if I'm gonna go down, I'm gonna go down fighting." He lunged forward before Tony could react, hitting his arm to the side as it went off, missing his head by inches. He brought his knee up, slamming it against the metal platings covering his stomach. The hero bent over at the force. Percy ignored the sudden spike of pain it sent through his leg and brought it up once again, bashing Tony in the face. The older man stumbled back at the sudden attack, Percy blurring forward once again and bringing his leg up in a high kick to his chest. Tony staggered back, unbalanced. He shot forward again, punching as hard as he could at his face. When Tony staggered, he swept his legs out from beneath him. He fell back with an audible _thud_ , his head slamming against the ground. Percy gave him no time to recover, pinning his arms to the ground with his knees and giving him punch after punch, ignoring the steadily growing pain on his fists. By the time he had stopped, blood was smeared on the metal visor, his knuckles raw, bruised and bloodied. He was breathing heavily, Tony completely stunned. As Percy got up and stepped away, he groggily tried to push himself up again. The green eyed teenager slammed his foot onto his head, driving him to the ground once again, keeping his foot in place. The suit's eyes dimmed slightly from the force of it.

"Stay down." He ordered, feeling slightly regretful. He shook his hands, trying to ignore the ache punching the metal suit had caused. His knee and foot both hurt as well, but he easily pushed his pain aside, starting to run once again. He glanced back and saw Stark slowly staggering to his feet. He let out an annoyed sigh, picking up his pace. He vaulted over a wall, landing gracefully onto a metallic fire escape. The brightly painted metal creaked and groaned in protest at the sudden weight. He slid down the ladder, ignoring the heat the friction caused to his hands. He landed softly, feet barely making any noise on the concrete. He immediately raced out of the alley and into the street, which was, unlike day time, quiet and devoid of people. There was a sudden sound of a blast and Percy dodged just in time for the repulsor's blast to graze his leg. He cried out at the sudden pain, before gritting his teeth. He turned around just in time to see Tony land again, arm aimed at him. Percy's blood was still smeared on his helmet, but the hero took no notice of it. He let out another blast, but the other dove to the side as it went off for the second time. This time it missed him, but just by millimeters. Stark walked a few steps closer to the teenager, keeping his palm at him. Percy's eyes flashed dangerously.

"That. Hurt." He blurred forward with an uppercut punch. Tony's head snapped back and he was forced to take a step back from the impact. The hero responded with a punch, which Percy easily slipped away from and responded by grabbing the outstretched arm and attempting to break it between the joints. The suit, being made of most likely Nitinol, didn't break as easily as he had hoped it would, and Tony quickly used his other arm to punch at his jaw while the teenager was distracted. Percy rolled his head to the side as the punch hit in order to lessen the blow, although it still sent him reeling. He raised his arms to block the next few blows, which still jarred his arms heavily and sent shocks of pain throughout his arms. His head pounded and his vision blurred slightly at the vicious onslaught, his arms shaking slightly with every incredibly strong punch. If he had been anyone else, his arms probably would've been broken by now. He ducked away suddenly while there was a break between punches, creating some space between them again. He shook his head, trying to clear it.

Percy wiped a hand over his lip, which he knew had split, and his cheek stung. He knew he wouldn't be able to last too much longer, so he would have to end it quickly. He feinted with a punch, which Stark moved to block, before whirling around the other and slamming his foot into the small of his back. He stumbled forward and Percy used the momentum to slam him face first into a wall. Before he could recover, he used all of his strength to bash his face into the bricks again. Instead of Tony's helmet breaking, like he had hoped, the bricks started dislodging and cracking instead. Tony, now beginning to recuperate, tried to stop Percy by pushing away from the wall. Not letting him stop him, he rammed his face against the wall once more, this time hearing a satisfying _crack_ of metal. Tony's grip slackened for a moment, the lights in his suit dying down slightly. Percy wasted no time, whirling him around and grabbing him by the shoulders. He spun around and turned away, holding on to him by his arm and pulling him closer, before flipping the other over his hip and slamming him into the ground. _Hard_. A classic judo flip. As Tony lay stunned on the gravel road, Percy pushed him over until he was on his stomach, his face now on the curb of the street. As the hero tried to lift himself up, Percy stomped his foot down on the back of his helmet, causing a loud _crack_ to echo from it. His eyes dimmed to nothing and the metal suit went limp on the ground. Percy stepped back, breathing heavily and frowning at the fallen hero.

_'I just curb stomped a superhero.'_ A humourless laugh escaped his mouth as he shook his head in disbelief. _'I need to get out of here. Now.'_ He turned and started jogging away from the older man, who lay still on the road. His mind was already scanning through the lists of places he could go to escape the agents and heroes that were forever after him. Perhaps Moscow? Hawaii? Australia? 

The sound of a blast came suddenly and Percy stumbled forward with an agonised cry from the impact, waves of pain racing from his shoulder. He clutched at it, trying to push away the almost blinding pain the repulsor had caused. He glanced over his shoulder to see Tony standing with his palm faced outward at him, but this time his helmet was gone, revealing a bruised and bloodied face glaring furiously at him. He glared back at the older man, ignoring the pain and the probable gaping hole it had left in the muscles and tendons. He knew he wouldn't be able to use his arm much now, so his chances of winning another fight, as diminished as they were before, were gone now. So instead he bolted. 

He ran down the street, aware of the sound of the metal suit flying after him. He ducked to the side as another blast came from his repulsors, missing Percy by centimeters. His shoes hit against the concrete rhythmically as he ran, his backpack hitting against his back in time with his feet, annoying him immensely. The street lights around him were casting shadows everywhere and the moon washed the dark streets with silver, clashing with the yellowness of the lamps. A few cars blared their horns in the far distance, yet they were nowhere near him. He noticed this all within a matter of seconds, time seeming to stand still as he ran without falter. He abruptly changed directions, taking a left at the street corner. 

That's when he slammed into something. And the next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, on top of something. 

No. Not something.

Some _one_.

A girl, about his age, lay beneath him, her brown eyes wide and her long brunette hair sprawled around her head. Her mouth was slightly open in shock, and Percy was sure he looked exactly the same. They were both breathing heavily, staring unblinkingly at each other. His arms were around her, pressed against the cold ground, and holding his body up, slightly above hers. The sound of Stark's suit ripped him from his reverie and his head shot up to see him land, palm aimed at him unwaveringly. Not knowing what else to do, Percy felt an unintentional tug in his gut. As the repulsor went off, the two teenagers exploded into a burst of thick mist that blinded Tony for a moment.

And when he could see again, they were gone.


	5. Chapter 4

All Percy could feel was pain. 

Searing pain everywhere. 

His shoulder screamed in agony, his limbs felt dead and heavy, his head pounded like a sledgehammer repeatedly breaking his skull.

Grains of something rough, sharp and painful dug into the side of his face and exposed skin, scratching and rubbing at his flesh and making it raw every time the wind blew. 

He couldn't breathe. 

His chest felt tight and he couldn't find any air to fill his lungs. Vaguely he knew that he had been winded by the impact, but at the moment he could only focus on the pain. 

His arms and legs felt numb and he couldn't move them, no matter how hard he tried. His mouth was dry and he felt extremely dehydrated, his tongue feeling thick and heavy in his mouth. 

His entire body felt drained and unable to move, his energy spent on taking him... wherever he was. 

Air finally came to his lungs and he managed to take in a small, gasping breath. While doing so, a few grains of whatever he was lying on was inhaled into his throat and he started to choke, falling into a fit of body wracking coughs that made the aching all over him worsen. When the coughing finally subsided, he lay on the scratchy ground lifelessly, trying his best to gain enough energy to perform the simple task of moving a limb. Eventually he found that he could twitch his fingers, and attempted to open his eyes. The light, though it appeared to be a dark, grey, cloud filled day wherever he was, was still too bright. He squinted, his vision blurry, eyes stinging, and most likely puffy and bloodshot. His eyelids seemed to drag down, as if begging for sleep. Percy couldn't help but want to comply due to his fatigued, exhausted state, but he knew he couldn't. Not yet, at least. He forced his eyes open, waiting until eventually his vision cleared enough to see what he was lying on: Sand. 

White sand lay all around him and stretched off into the distance, surprisingly painful to lie on. He assumed it was because of the impact combined with his original pain, which was still throbbing agonisingly all over his body. As he blinked a few more times, things in the distant seemed to become clearer. He paid little attention to them though, focusing more on being able to move. His hand twitched and he tried to progress to his arm. It rose slowly and he pressed his raw hand against the sandy, ever moving ground. He tried the same with the other arm, achieving the same result but at a slower rate. He then attempted to move his feet, which, thankfully, were a bit easier than his arms. He very slowly turned himself around and fell back into the sand again, this time on his back. Even this simple action caused him to be out of breath, and he closed his eyes to regain his strength further, barely noticing the feeling of the wind gently pulling at his most likely sandy hair. After a few minutes he tried again, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position. His arms started shaking at this effort, but he managed not to fall back again. He could feel a bead of rapidly cooling sweat drip down his face. After another few minutes he attempted to stand, which led to his legs collapsing after the first few steps and his face back in the sand. A pained groan escaped his chapped lips as he hit the ground, his body begging him to give up. After a few more moments he tried again though. He tried to stay on his feet, but he felt unsteady and the sand made it especially difficult to keep his balance. His legs wobbled as he took a trial step forward, his shoulder sending jabs of pain throughout his body. At a painfully slow pace, he staggered down the sand, stinging eyes glued on the continuously receding and approaching waves as they gently washed over the beach. He fell to a knee, legs straining to carry his weight any further. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up again.

_'Got to... make it... make it to... water...'_

Even his thoughts were sluggish. His legs shook and he could feel a fine sheen of sweat coating his body. The smell of salt water filled his nose, giving him the tiny burst of strength he needed to take the last few steps. The water softly ran over his shoes and he stumbled further, the waves slowly going higher and higher up his ankles. He waded deeper into the salty water, until his legs collapsed and he sank to his knees, water now up to his waist. 

His energy completely spent, he could only sit on his knees, head bowed and eyes closed. 

At first there was nothing. But then a cool, soothing sensation ran over him. As if the rush of morphine had hit him, he let out an involuntary moan of relief, his eyes slowly opening again at the new but weak wave of energy that ran through him. 

The pain in his head subsided slowly, relieving him immensely. His split lip and cheek no longer hurt either, and neither did his leg. Although he knew that his shoulder would definitely need medical treatment; his powers would only dull the pain so much. The wound ached, still sending jabs of pain through his arm and chest-although not nearly as painfully as before. 

He watched with quiet fascination as the skin on his knuckles slowly knitted itself together, causing the pain to fade away and his hands to look as good as new. He knew that the majority of his wounds had healed, and with his powers acting as a strong painkiller, he felt ready to fight another hero. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that though.

He let out a long, relieved sigh, closing his eyes again and letting his head drop back. He silently listened to the sea, the icy water soaking his clothes comfortably as the sounds of the waves lulled him to a calm, soothing state of mind. Wherever he was, he felt at peace in the sea, with the beach spread behind him and the salt water stretching out for miles around. 

He felt like he was home.

_'Home.'_ He mused _. 'I can't even remember where home is.'_

"Where did you take us?" Percy's head shot forward again, eyes widening as a female voice came from far behind him. His neck almost snapped at how fast he looked over his shoulder. Standing on the beach, with white sand in her brunette hair and dusting her clothes, was the girl from before. The one he had ran into, the one he had fallen over, the one he had apparently taken with him. Percy would have kicked himself if he could, his eyes half closing in self-annoyance as he muttered as many curses he could think of under his breath. 

_'How did this happen? I'm usually so careful... I really must be getting rusty-'_

"Uh... hello?" She asked again when she got no reply from him.

"I didn't mean to take you with me." Percy finally found his words. "It was an accident." He stood up and turned around, automatically making sure his clothes dried immediately as he waded out of the ocean and onto the beach once again. He scanned the girl a few metres from him, assessing her. He noticed how she seemed fit and muscular in a slim, fighter way, but still not enough to be noticeable by just anyone. She also seemed tense in front of him, more so than most would be, as if expecting a fight. But what Percy could tell most about the girl was through her eyes, which seemed hard and guarded, yet hidden away from all but trained eyes was pain and sorrow. Emotions Percy could easily relate to. He knew she was assessing him too, although she wouldn't be able to get much from him.

"Who are you?" She finally spoke again. Percy could hear her accent now that he was closer, and it made him wonder what it was. 

_'Russian? No, not as bold or heavy... maybe Sokovian?'_  While part of his mind was wondering that, the other part was deciding whether or not to tell her his real name. After a pregnant pause, he finally answered.

"Percy Jackson." The girl's eyes flicked over him for a moment, as if wondering whether he was telling the truth or not, before she introduced herself.

"Wanda Maximoff." Percy sighed as he realised who exactly was standing in front of him, a flash of annoyance mixed with recognition passing through his thoughts.

_'Just my luck to take a hero with me while fleeing another hero after beating him up.'_

"Where are we?" She questioned him. Percy turned around at this, gazing out at the sea again. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the water in front of him. He heard the girl behind him open her mouth, but he held a hand up, silencing her before she could utter a word. She stayed silent, obviously confused, and waiting slightly impatiently for him to speak again.

"Onetahi." He finally said, opening his eyes again.

"What?" She asked, clearly confused.

"We're in Onetahi, Tetiaroa, an island near Tahiti." He repeated and turned around to look at her again. She frowned, obviously not believing where they were until she saw his straight face. He walked right past her without a second glance, not really caring whether she followed him or not. After a few moments he heard the almost silent sound of footsteps on the sand behind him, indicating that she was indeed following him. 

"How did you get us here?" She demanded, brushing off the sand on her clothes.

"You're not the only one with powers." He answered vaguely. He could practically feel the irritation emitting from her at his cryptic response.

They walked in silence, which Percy preferred rather than talking, as it gave him time to think about his next plan.

"Why was Tony Stark fighting you?" She queried, suspicion laced in her words.

"Because I'm a very evil person who will kill you and bury your body where no one would ever find you, no matter how hard they search." He deadpanned, not looking back still.

She folded her arms. "You've got sand in your hair and you're only wearing one shoe. I think I'm safe for now." She responded in a matching, almost condescending tone. He looked down at his feet at that, only realising now that he had somewhere along the line lost his right shoe.

_'Well I'll be damned...'_  He looked around the beach, spotting his shoe hidden among the dunes of sand. He must've been more drained than he had thought, both mentally and physically. He changed his course immediately and moved towards the shoe, leaning down and picking it up. He turned it upside down and a torrent of sand fell from the inside, making him grimace slightly. He knelt down-not caring about the leftover grains still stuck inside-and put it on. _'I guess I was in such a rush I didn't tie them properly.'_  He laced up the shoe, tying the laces in a tight knot. When he stood up again, he saw Wanda standing with her arms crossed, her face showing a mixture of emotions. Her main expression being suspicion and confusion though.

"You have to take me back." She said, her voice firm and demanding. Percy raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You have to take me back to Manhattan." He frowned slightly, blinking rapidly.  _'That was Manhattan I was in?'_  He pushed away the feeling of familiarity at the name of that place, instead focusing on the other thing she had said.

"Take you back?" He echoed.

"Yes." Wanda frowned slightly. "You brought me here, you must take me back." Percy pursed his lips, the gears turning in his head. He supposed the right thing to do would be to take her back... But when had he ever done the right thing? She raised an eyebrow at his silence. "Well?" Percy stared at the brunette girl for a few pregnant moments, his face unreadable.

"No." With that said, he turned on his heels and started walking, leaving her confused and irritated by his response.

"No?" She repeated, stalking after him. Her eyebrows creased together incredulously at his response. "How am I supposed to get back then?" She demanded, picking up her pace to catch up to him.

Percy gritted his teeth, not once looking back at her. "Find your way back." He snapped.

"You practically kidnapped me." She accused, moving quicker as she tried to overtake him. She stood in front of him firmly, blocking his path and forcing him to stop, even if just for a few seconds. "I have no ways of getting out of... of wherever here is." She folded her arms, not at all intimidated by him, which in itself was rather surprising. "So either you take me there willingly, or I will force you to." Percy's eyes flickered down to her hands momentarily when he noticed a sliver of red threading its way around her fingers. He took the unveiled threat in through narrowed eyes. 

On any other occasion, he knew that he would be able to take this Avenger-or rather, ex Avenger-in a fight. But in his injured and exhausted state now, he knew that he had no other choice, much to his irritation.

"Fine. I suppose I have to take you back." He finally concluded. "But first I need to recover." Wanda's eyebrows drew together and her lips thinned, obviously displeased with the answer.

"All right, but we are leaving again as soon as possible." She slowly agreed. With that done, he walked around her and continued on his way along the beach, eyes scanning the area. No one else seemed to be around; it was quite a dreary, windy day after all. 

They walked in silence once again, and before long his eyes could make out a shape in the distance. "The Brando." Percy muttered to himself, relaxing slightly. 

"What?" Wanda asked, glancing over at him.

"It's a resort." He answered simply.

"How do you know? I can barely see it from here."

"I've been here before." She went silent at that. Soon the resort came into view, pools, huts and villas buildings surrounding the area. Wanda was looking around with big eyes, but Percy didn't waste time looking at things he had seen before, heading straight for the front desk. There were a few people outside, lounging on chairs and sitting by pools, drinking colourful drinks from oddly shaped glasses, even if the weather wasn't the best. A woman in her late twenties sat at the desk, her blonde hair pulled into a bun and her brown eyes looking down at the computer in front of hear, a phone glued to her ear. While they waited for the woman-Emma, by the name on her name badge-to finish speaking, he fished out his wallet. She finally finished and put down the phone, typing on the keyboard in front of her. 

"Welcome to the Brando, a luxury eco-resort. Do you have a booking?" She asked boredly, not even looking up from the computer.

"I'm afraid not. Do you have any available rooms?" Percy asked. The woman started typing faster, her eyes flicking across the screen.

"The only available room at the moment is a one bedroom villas." She finally answered.

"We'll take it." He replied, leaning against the desk slightly. 

"Very good, and what is your name?" She asked disinterestedly.

"Jason Underwood." He told her his usual fake name, a pang of grief hitting his heart for an unknown reason at the sound at it. After a minute of typing she spoke again, still staring at the screen like a zombie.

"Welcome back then, Mr. Underwood. I assume you know the rates?"

"I do."

"How long will you and your..." She glanced up for the first time, taking in their rather scruffy appearances. Percy knew that he must've looked awful. Sand in his hair, his shirt and pants torn and slightly charred in some areas, and dried blood on his knuckles and cheek. He stared down at her though, almost daring her to comment on how he looked. His wolf like glare must've worked, since she didn't utter a word about it. Instead she looked at Wanda.

"Girlfriend." He added in for her, lying easily.

"Girlfriend, be staying?" She asked, looking down again. He could see the brunette girl frown in displeasure at that from the corner of his eye, but she didn't say anything.

"Two nights." He heard Wanda open her mouth to say something, but Percy silenced her with a look.

"Two nights..." The receptionist murmured, typing. "And how will you be paying?" He took out a card from his wallet, handing it to her without another word. After a few moments he had to put in the card pin, then waited for her to finish. While Emma was busy, Percy's eyes started wandering around. He thought back to the last time he was here; the cause and conditions of this visit completely opposite from the last time. His thoughts returned again as the receptionist spouted off the details of the room, holding out the keys. Percy just smiled falsely and accepted the keys, filing the information away in his brain.

"Thank you." He said and steered Wanda away from the desk and towards their Villa.

"Two nights?" She asked as soon as they were out of earshot, frowning.

He glanced at her momentarily. "It's the minimum amount of nights you are supposed to stay." He explained. She looked down, biting her lip.

"They're going to be so worried..." She murmured to herself. Percy glanced over at her.

"Who? Your team?" He questioned her. She didn't say anything, but nodded in answer. The corners of his lips twitched upwards into the ghost of a darkly amused smile. "I didn't think you had a team to go back to, with everything that happened with Barnes."

Wanda came to an abrupt stop, her eyes widening fractionally. "How did you know?" She asked, sounding both surprised and guarded.

"Everyone knows." He answered with a shrug. "The Avengers disbanding and fighting each other because of the Winter Soldier? It was all over the news." He wouldn't mention that he had hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D to get more information though. She didn't need to know that. They were both quiet for a while after that, Wanda because she was trying to get a read on the mysterious guy that had practically kidnapped her, and Percy because he didn't feel the need to talk.

He led her to their villa, unlocking the door and stepping inside. His oceanic eyes flickered around the room slowly, taking everything in with his studious gaze. He dropped his backpack on a table, before making his way all around the villa, leaving Wanda to do whatever she pleased. None of the windows were barred, and the doors leading towards the beach were made of glass. At least the doors could lock though. But other than the poor security measures, it was just as luxurious as he remembered it to be. It had been a long time since he had even been near a place so extravagant and expensive. With his mini exploration over, he went back to Wanda, an irritated expression flickering over his face. She had found a landline phone and was busy punching a number in.

"Wanda." He deadpanned, folding his arms over his chest. She flinched, almost dropping the phone in her hand, and turned around to look at him.

"What?" She asked, lifting her chin almost challengingly. "I'm allowed to call my team. You can't stop me doing that."

Percy watched her for a bit, unamused by her feisty attitude. "Fine. Just try not to mention me. And especially don't tell anyone my name." He told her, picking his bag up again from where he had left it. "Got it?" She nodded once in response, still looking quite tense. Almost like she thought he was going to stop her from making the call. "Good. I'm going to go shower now. Don't leave the villa." With that said, he turned around and headed towards the bathroom. He really needed a shower. Plus, the water would help with the few wounds that he still had. The dull ache in his shoulder had started to come back again. He closed the door behind him and dropped the bag lightly on the ground, silently marvelling at the overly grand bathroom. It was so... unnecessary. Unnecessary, but nice nonetheless. With a wince he peeled his torn and dirtied shirt off, dropping it on the floor and turning to face the large mirror above the counter. 

He barely recognised the person he saw staring back at him.

Although the wounds on his face were healed, dried blood still crusted some areas. His hair was messier than it usually was, and sand dusted the dark strands. Light bruises stretched over his torso, along with dark smudges of dirt and dried patches of blood. Steeling himself, he turned around so that his back was facing the mirror. He turned his head as much as he could and looked over his shoulder. He almost grimaced at the sight. Stark's repulsor had really done a number on him. 

The wound on his shoulder was almost the size of his fist and the skin around it was an angry red colour, some areas looking almost burnt. The wound itself wasn't too deep because of his shoulder blade thankfully, so it didn't seem to have damaged anything vital. That in itself was a small mercy. He sighed softly, knowing that a wound like that would not heal quickly. He also knew that he wouldn't be able to stitch up a wound like that. Damn.

He shook his head slowly and finished getting undressed, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. He stepped into the shower and switched the water on, letting out a soft noise of approval in the back of his throat at the heavenly water pressure. He turned the heat up until it almost burnt his skin, eyes closing as he let the hot water pour over him, washing away the dirt and dried up blood all over his body. He could feel himself relaxing, and the pain that had come back faded away once again. The already mostly healed bruises on his chest and stomach disappeared completely within a matter of moments, along with the other bruises. He knew that his shoulder wouldn't be able to heal though. Major wounds like that never healed with water like the minor ones did, unfortunately. Life would be so much easier if it did. So he would just have to make sure that he didn't do anything to make his injury worse. He'd have to be extra careful for the next week or so. Hopefully that's how long it would take for it to heal up properly. He leaned against the shower wall, simply soaking in the water as he allowed himself to get lost in thought.

He knew that he had to take Wanda back to Manhattan, but after that, he had no idea what he was going to do. Probably go to another country for a new start. Again. He couldn't count how many times he had tried to live a normal life, only to be found by one of the organisations after him. Often he couldn't tell which was which anymore. Which one wanted him dead, and which one wanted him alive.

After washing himself thoroughly some time later, he climbed out again, his skin pink from the hot water and his muscles relaxed. He glanced at the mirror again, looking almost normal once more. He took the closest towel to him and started to dry himself off, feeling much better than he had previously. He knelt down next to his backpack, getting out a fresh set of clothes and an emergency medical kit. He always prepared for the worst, after all. For situations just like this. He got dressed into his jeans quickly, leaving his shoes off for now. He wasn't going anywhere, so why bother? He took gauze out from the kit, his lips thinning. This would not be too pleasant. At least he didn't have to put rubbing alcohol on; the water would have cleansed it of any infections for sure. He reached his hand over his shoulder, struggling to get to the right place to put it. The position was awkward to reach or see, unfortunately. It irritated him to no end. He managed to place it over the wound after some time, pressing it down and flattening the sides out so that it stuck in place. He let out a long sigh and pulled a shirt on, buttoning the front up. He gathered his things, noticing that he would probably have to throw away his previous shirt. It was too grimy and torn up to be worn again. Oh well. He picked his backpack up and opened the bathroom door, eyes immediately drawn to Wanda, who was perched on the end of the king-sized bed. They stared at each other for a few prolonged moments, neither of them saying a word.

Percy finally broke eye contact and walked past the bed, knowing that she was watching him. "I couldn't contact them." She finally said, her voice low with disappointment. He paused in his steps and glanced at her over his shoulder. She took this as a sign to continue. "I tried everyone I could. I don't know why I can't get through." She dropped her eyes to her lap, her eyebrows creased together. He remained silent though, unsure of what to say for once in his life.

"Well... You're going to see them soon enough." He told her simply. "So don't worry." With that said, he walked to the nearest window and looked out of it, noticing that the sun was almost completely set already. Wanda seemed to notice the time as well and glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the bed.

"Where will we be sleeping?" She asked, looking back to him.

Percy didn't need to think about the answer. "You can take the bed." 

"What about you then?"

"I'll take the couch." He replied with a half hearted shrug. That's if he decided to sleep at all. He never did need much sleep generally. Maybe two, three hours to be functioning well. He had been programmed that way after all.

_'Programmed. Not trained.'_

That thought made him cringe slightly. 

"All right." She responded hesitantly, rubbing her arm with a hand absentmindedly. "Goodnight then." She said after a pause.

Percy dipped his head slightly in acknowledgment. "Goodnight." With his bag on his shoulder he left the room, closing the door behind him. 

He didn't know how he felt about the hero staying only a room away from him. Someone who would take him down without a moment of hesitation if they knew who he really was. It made him cautious, to say the least. 

But then again, he knew that she would have no way of knowing the truth. That put his mind to ease-if only just a little bit.

He glanced towards the couch and the array of plush pillows lying on it in a neat line. He honestly didn't know how people could sleep with multiple pillows. Personally he found it quite irritating, and he had been  _trained_  to sleep almost anywhere without caring about discomfort. When he went to sleep, he would make sure to kick them off.

But he knew that he wouldn't need to do that for a while. After all, he did have things to do before he allowed himself some rest.

Like figuring out how exactly he was going to get both himself and Wanda back to Manhattan. Him by himself was a piece of cake. He'd done it a hundred times before with no problems. But with Wanda? That was a different story entirely. He could use his powers again, but that would only drain him more. He would probably need to check flight schedules and book tickets for the two of them. But who knows when the next plane would arrive. It could be months. And with his luck, that was entirely probable.

Another thing he would need to do is research. And by research, he meant hacking into databases. He needed to find out why  _Tony Stark_  of all people would be sent after  _him_. What had he done to gain that kind of attention? Well, besides killing all those agents and all...

But he had been under the radar for so long now, with barely any conflict. What changed? Why were they attacking him now?

And how had they found him?

He intended to find out as soon as he could so that he could go back to the way things had been. Simple and peaceful. Just the way he wanted it to be.

He sighed and took a seat on the couch, lowering his bag to the ground next to him.

_'This is going to be a long night.'_


	6. Chapter 5

_The clang of a heavy metal door ran through the cold air, followed by multiple pairs of footsteps. Percy managed to raise his drooping eyes, his vision blurry and slightly hazy, to look through the bars of his cell. His body ached with a dull pain that he could only try to ignore._

_"Percy?" A quiet voice asked, taut with fear. He brought his attention to the girl in the cell right next to him. Her once soft, almost golden hair matted with dry blood and dirt, and her beautiful face scratched and bruised. Seeing the woman he loved in this state hurt him more than an injury could._

_"Don't look at them." He managed to croak out, throat hoarse with the lack of water-and probably from the non stop screaming. He licked his lips in a weak attempt to moisten them. "Everything is gonna be all right." He tried to reassure her. With some effort he managed to pull his unresponsive body into a crawl, moving towards the edge of the cell. He slumped against the bars; just that menial task had drained him. "Just don't..." He tried, but a rattling cough slipped through his lips. He inhaled again shallowly, his breath raspy. "Don't look at them." He reached through the bars with a shaky arm, taking Annabeth's hand in his own. She responded immediately, her cold fingers slipping through his and grasping at him tightly as if he were her lifeline. They both flinched at the sound of another door opening and closing again with a dull squeal. This one was closer, and both of them knew it. He moved his tired gaze up and away from his love to peer out of the bars. As he had thought, multiple guards were walking towards the cells. But with a foreboding sense of dread building up in his stomach, he noticed that they were heading towards her cell, and not his. He looked back at her, catching sight of the look of fear that flickered through her face._

_"Look at me." He ordered her, forcing his sore throat to make his voice sound as firm and reassuring as he could. To his distress, she turned her head to the side slightly, to instead look at the approaching guards. "Annie." He tried again, breath hitching slightly as he fought the urge to cough again. "Annie, look at me." His desperate tone caught her attention again. She bit her lip, moving her normally bright and silvery-but now dull and cloudy-eyes to meet his own. He rubbed his thumb over her hand gently, trying his best to comfort her. "It's going to be okay, I promise." He hoped that she hadn't heard the catch in his voice at that. The door to her cell swung open with a whine and the guards marched inside, causing Annabeth to shrink against the bars, pressing towards him as much as she could, while keeping her gaze on him the entire time. "Please, just keep looking at me." He begged her, fighting the urge to break eye contact and look at the approaching guards. She made a small noise of distress when two of them grabbed her by her shoulders and hauled her backwards._

_Percy gritted his teeth at the stab of pain that raced down his arm, his shoulder straining from the effort and the pressure of the bars against him as he tried to keep his grip on her hand. He couldn't let go of her. He couldn't let them take her again. He tightened his grip on her hand, distraught at the fact that her fingers were slowly slipping through his._ 'Hang on, hang on...' _Another guard grabbed her by the waist and helped the others yank her back, their hands finally torn apart._ 'No!' _He kept his hand reached out for her in vain, still pressing himself against the bars as he watched, helpless, as they dragged her kicking and screaming from the cell and down the long corridor. He finally slumped down when they were out of sight, pressing his forehead against the freezing cold metal of the bars._ 'Dammit...' _He jolted upright at the sound of more footsteps coming back, lifting his head again. The faceless guards unlocked the door to his cell this time and stepped inside, aiming their various weapons at him. He allowed them to approach him, knowing already that fighting back would be pointless. After all, he had lost count of how many times he had tried to escape-or even fight back. They grabbed his arms and yanked him forward, cuffing his hands behind his back, as they did every time. Without a single word to him, they dragged him to his feet and shoved him forward; a silent command for him to start walking. So he did, unsteadily and ignoring the pain it caused him. They led him down the hallway and through the first door. He knew where he would be going. It was where he was always taken. The place the guards had affectionately started referring to as the 'torture room'._

_He was pushed through a second door. He blinked a few times, eyes squinting slightly at the drastic change of lighting. Before he could get use to it, he was forced to his knees. The familiar feeling of a gun pressed against his head brought his attention away from his surroundings momentarily._

_"Hello again, Perseus." A Russian accented man greeted him pleasantly. Percy raked his gaze around slowly, eventually coming to terms with the bright lights. The general, who's name he still wasn't allowed to know, stood in the front of the room, an almost smug smirk playing at his features. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Annabeth next to him, her position mirroring his own-on her knees and a gun to her head. He swallowed thickly, ignoring the Russian general for now._

_"Everything will be fine." He told her, fighting to keep his voice from wavering. "All you need to do is keep your eyes on me." He could see her shivering slightly, but she didn't say anything in response. "Don't look away, okay?"_

_"How touching." The general chuckled, mockingly placing a hand on his chest, right where his heart would be. The teenager didn't say anything in response, although his gaze went cold and his expression turned stony and blank. "Do you know that we searched for you for a long time, Perseus? Every time we seemed to have had you in our grasp, you somehow managed to slip away. Every. Single. Time." He put his hand on Annabeth's head, causing her to flinch away from the touch and squeeze her eyes shut. "Until... We caught her._ Then _you were more than wiling to give yourself up." He smiled wryly. "Young love. It's so sweet." He walked towards Percy slowly, folding his hands behind his back. "Now, let's get down to business. You've had plenty of time to consider our... Offer." He crouched down in front of him so that they were eye level. "Will you join us and become one of the greatest soldiers the world has ever seen?"_

_Percy's lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. "Fuck you." He snapped, his tone tinged with barely concealed hatred. The general's face hardened angrily._

_He barely saw the blow, but by gods did he feel it._

_He doubled over, gasping for breath as pain shot through his abdomen. The general grabbed a handful of his matted dark hair, forcing his head up so that they were almost face to face. The older man's face was twisted by a savage snarl._

_"Think about your words next time, boy." He growled lowly, grip tightening painfully. "It would do you well to reconsider your choice." He let go suddenly and stood up, taking a step back. "This is your last chance. Join us or else."_

_Percy slowly raised himself upright again, his oceanic eyes flickering towards Annabeth, who was still trembling like a leaf in the wind. "Everything will be all right." He told her, before he he lifted his chin defiantly towards the general. "I will never join you."_

_The general set his jaw, his expression darkening. "Very well." He turned on his heel and walked back towards Annabeth, causing him to stiffen visibly. He took his gun out of the holster at his side and lifted it up, aiming it at her head. His eyes widened with fear and his blood ran cold at the action._ 'No no no no...' _He started to squirm against his handcuffs, but it only caused the guard behind him to bark out something in Russian and press a gun against his head again._

_"No! Wait!" Percy shouted, his tone desperate. "Don't hurt her! Please!" The general looked at the teenage boy, wearing a smug expression once again._

_"Percy..." Annabeth finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. His gaze flickered down to her slowly. "Don't... Don't do it. Please, Percy. Don't do it." His eyes widened fractionally, his mouth going dry and his heart stopping for a moment._

_"Shut up!" The general snapped, glancing between the two of them frustratedly. "Join us or she dies!"_

_Percy watched as she shook her head almost imperceptibly, his stomach sinking. He knew she wouldn't want this... He knew what he had to do. And he hated himself for it._

_"No." He answered quietly, the word like acid in his mouth._

_"No?" The Russian repeated, sounding both indignant and angry at the same time._

_Percy ignored him though, not moving his gaze away from Annabeth for even a moment. "Just look at me, keep your eyes on mine." He could see the tears trickling down her cheeks slowly but her expression was firm and steady. "Okay, Annie?"_

_Annabeth jolted sightly when the barrel of the gun was pressed against her head momentarily, before it was withdrawn a bit again. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?!" The general raged on._

_"Annie, just don't look." Percy's voice wavered with emotion, his eyes filling up with tears while Annabeth kept her gaze locked onto his own. "Please, don't look at him."_

_"I love you, Percy."_

_"I... I love you too."_

**_BANG!_ **

Percy jolted upwards with a desperate gasp for air, his clammy hands clutching at the material of the couch beneath him in a grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white. 

_Annabeth_. 

His eyes darted around the room fervently, panic racing through his veins as he took everything in in quick glances.

_Annabeth_.

His eyes strained around the dark room, taking him longer than usual to remember where he was.

_Annabeth_.

The Fight with Stark. Onetahi. The resort. Wanda. He was still hidden.

_Annabeth_.

No one was there with him. He was alone.

_Annabeth_.

He was safe.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get his erratic heartbeat and his shallow breaths back to normal before it developed into a full panic attack. He forced his fingers to let go of their death grip on the couch to instead press the palms of his hands against his eyes. He let out a shuddering breath, his limbs trembling uncontrollably. _Don't look at them_. Something warm traced its way down his upper lip slowly, but he ignored it. He swung his legs over the edge of the couch, roughly carding his fingers through his messy hair, noticing vaguely that his hair had gone damp with sweat through the night. He could hear his heart racing deafeningly in his ears. _Everything is gonna be all right_. He leaned back against the couch heavily, tilting his head backwards to stare at the ceiling, eyes stinging with unshed tears. Why the hell was he feeling this way? It was as if his whole world had just crumbled down right before his very eyes. He inhaled deeply, managing to keep his breath from shaking too badly. In and out. In and out. He took his time, just focusing on his breathing. _Don't look at them_. He wiped the back of his hand over his upper lip, his tired eyes flickering down to see blood smeared over it. Great. A nosebleed. He dropped his hand down on the couch next to him, his heartbeat gradually starting to slow down again. _Look at me_. He closed his eyes again, faces that seemed familiar, yet unfamiliar at the same time flashing through his mind. He sighed silently, running his hand though his hair again. 

He heaved himself to his feet, wiping at his nose for the second time. He needed a tissue. _Annie, look at me_. He swayed for a moment, cringing slightly at how the room spun around him. It subsided after a few moments thankfully, so he headed towards the room. _It's going to be okay, I promise_. He opened the door, vaguely relieved when the door made no sound. He silently slipped inside, making sure to stay quiet and keep his footsteps light. He glanced towards the bed. Wanda was still fast asleep, curled up on her side and the blankets wrapped around her like a cocoon. She had a peaceful, relaxed look on her face-one that he was sure she wouldn't allow people to see when she was awake. _All you need to do is keep your eyes on me._ He turned away from her sleeping form, instead walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. He flicked the light switch on since it was still too early for the sun to be up, the bathroom immediately bathed with the warm white light. He leaned over the basin and switched the tap on with shaky fingers, immediately sticking his hands under the cold stream. _Don't look away, okay?_ He splashed a handful of water onto his face, allowing himself to get wet for once. The cool liquid seemed to work its magic, as he could feel the blood dripping from his nose come to a sudden halt.

He flicked his eyes up to look at his reflection, taking in the sight before him tiredly. Dark circles and heavy bags under hollow, red rimmed eyes. _Everything will be all right._ The bruised and bloodied face of a girl replaced his own reflection in a flash for barely a millisecond before disappearing again, leaving Percy to blink repeatedly at himself, the sight of the ghostly apparition leaving a dull ache in his chest. _Just look at me, keep your eyes on mine_. He tore his gaze away from the mirror again, throwing another handful of water onto his face before he allowed himself to get caught up in the thought too much. Phantom voices swirled around his head, sounding so familiar, yet like complete strangers at the same time. _Please, don't look at him_. He looked at the mirror again, hoping to catch even a glimpse of the mystery girl again.

No luck; he only saw his own exhausted face staring back at him.

He sighed heavily and dropped the towel again, allowing his feet to guide him back outside the bathroom and Wanda's room like a ghost. Outside of the Villa itself and towards the almost grey expanse of salt water.

_I love you, Percy._

He flinched automatically at the voice that sounded right next to his ear, whirling his head to the side in a vain attempt to see who was speaking. To see _her_ again. 

There was no one there.

"I'm going mad." He breathed, his eyes and nose prickling as if he were about to cry. _'No, stop it. I'm not going to cry.'_ He looked up at the sky, hating how his eyes were slowly starting to tear up. 

Who the hell was Annabeth? And why had seeing her... her die caused such grief in him? Why did his heart ache and his chest feel tight?

He shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the thoughts, and started walking again. The sand was softer than it had been the previous day, but then again it could've been because his entire body wasn't sore like it had been.

He wiped his eyes violently with the back of his hand, coming to a stop when he felt the cold, soothing water wash over his feet. The sea always seemed to calm him down and make him feel better... But it didn't now. He sighed heavily, carding his fingers through his hair.

Who the hell is Annabeth?

"Percy?" He jolted out of his thoughts and turned around, blinking a few times when he saw Wanda standing outside the glass doors of the Villa, looking dishevelled and slightly messy, as if she had just woken up-which she probably had.

She also held his phone in his hand.

"It... It was making a noise and the screen is blinking red." She told him, rubbing her hands over her eyes sleepily. 

No.

No no no no no.

He raced towards her, feeling something in his stomach lurch with dread. "We have to get out of here." He grabbed the phone from her hand, eyes glancing down momentarily to confirm that it was indeed flashing a bright red colour, a low whine emitting from the device. "Get your stuff ready, we're going now." He pushed past her to get inside the Villa, hurriedly moving to gather all of his things.

"Wha?" She asked blearily, trailing after him. "What do you mean we're going? I... I thought we were only leaving in a days time."

"Yeah well, plans change." He shoved his laptop in his bag unceremoniously, along with the other things that he had taken out last night. "They know I'm here, so get your things or I'm going to leave you here." He threatened halfheartedly

That seemed to snap her awake. She disappeared into her room, leaving Percy to scan over the place by himself in case he was leaving anything. 

Nothing? Good. 

He slipped his shoes on, swiftly tying the laces.

"I'm ready."

He looked up at Wanda's voice, getting to his feet again. "Good." He slung the backpack over his shoulder, letting out a soft hiss through gritted teeth at the sharp pain that lanced through his arm and back. Woops, wrong shoulder. He slid it off again, placing it on his other shoulder. "Follow me." He led her outside the Villa again, heading towards the water.

"Where are we going?" She asked dubiously, sticking close behind him. 

Percy didn't reply. He just continued walking down the beach and into the water, only stopping when it reached his knees. He turned around, fighting the urge to roll his eyes when he saw that Wanda had stopped before she could get wet. "Well? Come on." He gestured impatiently.

With a soft sigh, she took a tentative step forward, shivering slightly when the cold water soaked through her shoes. "Why are we doing this?"

"Because I don't want to collapse again, like last time." He deadpanned, holding his hand out to her. "Take my hand and we'll be out of here." Her lips thinned as a visible shiver overtook her body, taking ahold of his hand immediately.

He turned his head to look out at the sea, vaguely noticing that the sky was turning lighter with every passing moment. The sun would be coming up soon. He closed his eyes, allowing the feeling of the salt water to wash over him; to empower him. He could practically feel the power thrum through his veins as he inhaled deeply.

He pictured the tall buildings and the busy streets. He thought of the crowded shops and the green parks. He remember Manhattan in all its glory.

And with a sharp tug in his gut, the two teenagers were gone in a whirlwind of mist and fog...

Just as a black quinjet soared through the sky above the resort.


	7. Chapter 6

Tony had spent the past sixteen hours searching for Perseus Jackson. He had scoured the streets of Manhattan, scanned every single building he had come across, he had even resorted to hacking into street cameras to find any hint of the fugitive. And what did that accomplish?

Nothing.

Zilch.

Nada.

A big, fat, disappointing bowl of nothing cereal.

"FRIDAY, scan the perimeter for any-"

"Again, sir?" Came her voice, sounding almost... Concerned? He couldn't tell. Probably because he hadn't really been paying attention to that, his eyes flickering around and thoughts far away. Or perhaps even because he needed some sleep.

Woah.

Sleep?

Pfft, what's sleep?

"Yes, again." He responded, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He had to try again. After all, Perseus couldn't have vanished without a trace. He had to be somewhere. But then again, he'd never seen anyone actually do that before. Even Reindeer Games wasn't able to teleport like that.... Was he? Well if he was, he had never witnessed it.

"There are no signs of anyone who matches Perseus in the vicinity." She answered after a few moments. The same responses as earlier. Just great. He pushed himself to fly faster, the sounds of his repulsors surprisingly quiet to his ears. Probably because he had been hearing it for hours on end now.

"Alright, then-"

"Mr. Stark!"

"Jesus fu-" Tony just managed to catch himself in time, already able to hear Pepper admonishing him for almost swearing in front of the red and blue hero that had seemingly appeared out of thin air. "Kid, what are you doing here?" He asked, glancing at him momentarily. He was swinging around like a Christmas themed monkey next to him, somehow managing to keep up with him with every web that he shot.

"Well, I just saw you in the neighborhood and I thought you might be on some kind of superhero business so I thought you might need some help with whatever you're doing." His young, chirpy voice answered, not at all phased by the fact that he was practically dangling fifty meters in the air without a metal suit to protect him like he had. Just some webs that he had made himself. Sometimes it dumbfounded Tony just how talented this high-schooler was. It also dumbfounded him how he could just spout off a sentence like that without even taking a breath in between. "You do need some help, right? I mean-I'm sure you don't, but I could help anyway! Like I did in Germany, Mr. Stark!" 

God he's so peppy. How can someone be so cheerful about everything?

"Uh... Look, kid," Tony started off, mentally looking for a way to let the kid down gently. "I'm looking for someone dangerous. Reeeeaaaally dangerous. And it doesn't involve you. So why don't you just go back home and spend the rest of the day with your hot aunt?" He looked back towards him again, practically able to see the pout through his mask.

"But Mr. Stark, I can help!" He protested. "Who are we up against? Or what?"

"Underoos, this isn't your problem."

"But... But you're in Queens now! So that _does_ make it my problem!" He argued, before adding on a bit softer, "Uhm... Technically speaking..."

Another heavy sigh escaped his lips. So determined. So stubborn. So... So Tony Stark, unfortunately. He didn't know if it pleased him or horrified him that the kid was similar to himself in quite a few ways. "All right." He muttered on an exhale, sounding more like a sigh than actual words. "All right, fine." It was likely that Perseus wasn't even going to come back here, so Peter wouldn't be able to get hurt in any way. Why not bring him along on this pointless, or more specifically, safe mission? "Just... Keep your buggy eyes peeled for a male with dark hair and tanned skin. Looks about eighteen, nineteen-ish. Got a major attitude problem and looks like he would kill someone in five seconds flat. He might be with a girl, but I don't know what she looks like." He hadn't been able to get a look at her, his body had been blocking her out of view. He could see Peter nod out of the edge of his peripheral vision.

"Why are we looking for him? And who is he?" Came the all too eager response.

"A bad guy, that's all you need to know." He fell silent for a few moments, eyes skimming over the information that FRIDAY had deemed noteworthy and had pulled up for him. "Oh, and if you see him, do not engage. Understood?" There was silence for a while after that, which immediately made his stress shoot up like a rocket. "You understand, kid?" He prompted, turning his head to watch him. He was sure his disapproving frown was visible through the metal viser, because the young superhero seemed to shrink down slightly.

"...yeah, I understand, Mr. Stark."

• • •

Percy never could get used to the feeling of vapour-travelling, as he had decided to call it. The sensation of being somewhere one moment and gone the next, your whole body dissolving into thin air, leaving only a cold, empty feeling where your limbs and body parts should be. It was... Unnatural, to say the least. And more often than not, it caused his body to ache with a ghostly pain. But he had made do with it for decades already. One more time wouldn't hurt him. It _would_ however tire him out.

He and Wanda reappeared in between a thick grove of trees, his hand shooting out to lean against the rough bark of one of them automatically, allowing him to support his shaky legs for a few moments while he tried to regain feeling in his limbs. Pins and needles stabbed along his body, causing him to grimace and flex one of his feet back and forth a few times. A phantom pain tingled through his fingers and up his arms. He shifted his weight slightly, moving his other foot in the same movements, trying his best to get the unpleasant feeling to leave as soon as possible.

"Oh god."

Percy turned his head slightly, feeling very faintly amused to see Wanda on all fours, looking sick to her stomach. "You get used to it." He commented lightly, receiving a drawn out groan in return almost right away.

"Doubtful." She said. He couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. Her reaction was understandable. It might not have been her first time, but even so, vapour-travel took a while to get used to. Hell, the first time he had done it had been worse-

_A choked sob escaped his mouth, eyes squeezed shut and sweat dripping from his face. His head tilted back slightly, greedily gasping for air on his spot on the floor. His knees ached from being on them for so long, body swaying from side to side with an imaginary breeze. "Pl-Please..." He begged in a harsh whisper, voice broken and pathetic even to his own ears. "I-I can't... I can't do th-this... Please..."_

_"Do it." A voice said. The voice that had become so bitterly familiar. A voice that made him want to curl up and die. Even more so than he already did. A hand grabbed his hair tightly and forced his head further backwards, his eyes opening again and filling with tears at the sharp sting. "Now. Or you will suffer more. Understood, soldat?"_

_He swallowed thickly, but his mouth was too dry for it to help at all. "Un-Understood." He jerked forward slightly when the General pushed his head forward again. Dear god, he wanted all of this to end. He couldn't... He couldn't handle this anymore. He couldn't..._

_"Do it."_

_He hunched forward, curling in on himself and shutting his eyes once again. He could feel the straining tug in his gut, building up and churning inside of him. He focused hard on the feeling of his power growing._

_But then... It started dwindling. He could feel his hold over his power slipping away from him again, a distraught noise escaping his throat as he struggled desperately to keep control. A shaky exhale burst through his lips and he shook his head, ignoring the tears that now trickled down his cheeks. "I can't..." He whispered again. "I-I can't..."_

_"Do it!"_

_He whimpered, holding his head in his hands. He... He was so close... But he couldn't quite get it. "I..."_

_"DO IT!"_

_A tidal wave of cold and the ethereal feeling of emptiness washed over him in an instant, and the next thing he knew, he was on all fours on the other side of the room, having just emptied the contents of his stomach out onto the floor. His arms shook, struggling to keep himself upright. Strangled sobs could be heard in the otherwise silent room, his head hanging low and a foul taste on his tongue._

_"Good. Now do it again."_

"Percy?"

Percy blinked a few times, looking towards the source of the voice. Wanda was staring up at him, her lips set in a line, but her eyes looking almost concerned. She still looked pale, but not as sickly as before. 

He felt almost stunned at the sudden memory that had flashed through his mind. His hand automatically reached up, wiping at his nose before he could even feel anything. They seemed to be coming quicker and quicker... but he didn't understand why. Perhaps it was just time that was allowing him to regain things from his past? He shook his head, reaching a hand out in a silent offer to assist Wanda. Now wasn't the time to delve into those thoughts. He had to drop her off first. Then he could go on his merry way again and spend some time investigating the cause. He helped her to her unsteady feet, ignoring the questioning look she was giving him. "I'll take you to the place we bumped into each other, then we can part ways. Is that fine?"

Wanda raked her dark eyes over him for a few seconds, probably still curious about why he had gone silent like that for a while. She seemed to let it go for the moment however and nodded. "Yes. That's all right." She said.

He rubbed at his nose. "Good. Then let's go." He turned on his heel and started walking, weaving his way through the multiple trees, shoes crunching on the orange-brown leaves scattered over the ground.

They walked in silence for quite some time, the air between them awkward and tense, but neither one of them willing to break the strained silence. Percy kept a wary lookout at the sky, feeling his fingers itch with the need to move, to let his anxious feelings out somehow. He had the right to be paranoid. After all, this was the city Tony Stark had found him not even twenty four hours ago. A glance up at the sky, before looking down again. How had he found him? Then again, how had anyone found him? He knew that he had remained on the down low after the last... Altercation, between him and the agency, but had someone trailed him? And if so, who? A look up into the air, green eyes darting around, then looking down again. Surely he would've noticed if he'd been followed though, right? Or were his skills just that rusty? He hoped that wasn't true. His gaze shifted upwards once again to cast a searching look around.

"Are you looking for something?" There it was. Finally. The silence broken. He looked at Wanda, raising an eyebrow. 

"What do you mean?" He asked coolly, looking forward once again, just in time to swerve around a man hurrying past them, talking angrily in his phone. Percy shook his head, both amused and irritated by the oblivious pedestrians around them.

Wanda gestured at the sky. "You keep looking up for no reason. You're acting... Suspicious. Paranoid." She told him.

He grimaced slightly at that. "Let's just say... I'm kinda expecting someone to show up at any minute." He said. He could almost laugh at how cryptic he sounded, even to himself.

"From the sky?" She asked dubiously.

"Well hey, you never know where someone might pop up from." He shrugged, a small smile ghosting over his expression.

She made a quiet noise of disagreement. "I don't know about you, but I usually do know."

"Oh har har." Percy responded sarcastically, some tension bleeding out of his shoulders at the light banter between them. It was... nice, to say the least. He hadn't actually had companionship like this since... Well, since a long time. Probably since Nico Di Angelo. 

Nico...

He blinked away the surfacing memories that came with the name. Damn, he really needed to stop thinking about things like that. Reminiscing  was always a bad idea. It led to bad habits. Sloppy work. Getting caught. And he couldn't allow that.

He wondered how Nico was doing now... No. Bad Percy.

"We're here." 

He looked around, recognizing the area faintly. He looked down the street, cringing slightly. He'd been running for his life down this road not too long ago, Tony Stark hot on his heels like a banshee straight out of hell. Jeez, yet another thing to consider. Why on earth was Stark, of all people, after him? Was SHIELD so desperate that they had to send in a superhero? Or perhaps Hydra had more control than he had previously thought. He hoped not though. Because that could only mean more trouble for him in the future.

"I assume you know your way back to... wherever it is you were going before I ran into you?" He asked, not exactly sure what to do now that they had to go their separate ways. After all, they barely knew a thing about each other. That may have been for the best though. 

"I do." She said, her hands in her pockets and her dark eyes watching him rather curiously.

"Okay, good." He ran his tongue over his lips, silence settling between them like a blanket once again. "Wanda, listen-"

"I won't tell them about you."

Percy paused at that, unable to help his expression from shifting into one of surprise. "You... Won't?"

She smiled gently. "We all have our secrets. Our... fears. You're running from something. Or someone. I can tell. And I won't give you away." His eyebrows creased together in a slightly confused frown.

"Even after I kidnapped you?" He clarified doubtfully. Maybe... Maybe he'd read her wrong when he first met her. She laughed in response, features lighting up. He realized absently that this was probably the first time he'd seen her laugh. He blinked a few times. Wow. What a sentimental thought. Especially with someone he barely knew. And a hero at that. It's just... She reminded him of someone. And he just couldn't figure out who. Maybe it was something about her smile...

"Even after you kidnapped me." She confirmed.

"Ah," He couldn't help but smile slightly in return. Hers was quite contagious, in fact. "Well in that case, I believe I owe you."

"No, you really-"

"Miss Maximoff? Err, I mean, Miss Scarlet Witch... ma'am?" Percy couldn't help but stiffen at the sudden voice, eyes darting up to find the culprit. What he found instead was a small figure crouched precariously on the bars of a fire escape, decked out in a red and blue costume of sorts, big white eyes staring at the two of them. He glanced towards Wanda questioningly, but she had gone still and solemn in a matter of moments. 

"It's... You." She said, almost hesitantly. He could see her fingers automatically twitch and her stance change minutely. As if she was preparing for a fight. Percy took a step back, ready to either spring to her aid or flee from the scene. Two of the three options when faced with a threat, he had been taught.

"Yeah, I'm-I was in Germany. With Mr. Stark!" Now that he heard him again, the male sounded younger than he had previously thought. Young enough to still be a kid, in fact. Wait, Stark?

"I remember." She eased herself back a bit slowly, not taking her eyes off of the boy. "You're... Spider-Man, aren't you?"

Spider-Man? Percy frowned. Who on earth is Spider-Man?

"Yeah, that's me! But... What are you doing-" He trailed off, and Percy could feel his gaze burning into him as his attention shifted. "-here..." Percy stared back, feeling more and more uneasy by the moment at the intensity the kid was staring at him with. "Hang on... Something's not right..." He murmured, still not taking his eyes off of the other male. "You're... You're him, aren't you?"

Percy's eyes flickered towards Wanda for the briefest of seconds, before the two of them simultaneously turned and started running.

"H-Hey, wait!" He called after them, but neither of them listened-or responded.

Footsteps pounding and the familiar feeling of adrenaline coursing through his veins, they fled side by side, evenly paced with each other for the time being. 

"Why-Why is he after you?" She panted between breaths, not even pausing to look at him. 

He glanced over his shoulder, a soft groan escaping his lips. The so called 'Spider-Man' was swinging on some kind of... _web_ along the street, soaring overhead like a trapeze artist of sorts _. 'You have_ got _to be kidding me.'_ "You think I know?" He bit back, turning his attention forward again. "All I wanted was to get out of this damn city-" Something hard slammed into his leg, causing him to lose his balance and crash forward, slamming into the ground _hard_ , his breath bursting from his chest with an audible gasp.

"Percy!" 

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself up a bit, feeling way too winded for his liking. He looked down to see a mess of white... stuff sticking to his ankle. It looked like the shit Spider-Man had been using to swing around on. Speaking of, out of the corner of his eye, he could see a blur of red and blue barreling down the opposite end of the street again.

Then there was a hand in front of him, grabbing his shoulder and forcefully lifting him to his feet. "Come on, Percy!" Without a single word, he started sprinting again, wincing at the breathless feeling in his chest.

"Who the... Who the hell is that?" He practically wheezed out, legs still pumping as they ran.

"I've only seen him once before, but I think he works with Tony Stark." 

Tony Stark. _Again_ with Tony Stark. Well, that would explain why he's after him then.

"Well, whoever he is, we've-" He sucked in a deep but shaky breath. "-we've gotta lose him." A faint tug in his gut warned him and he dodged to the side, another blast of webbing just missing him by a few inches and causing him to let out a string of curses under his breath. He could see the spider hero come swinging in towards them through his peripheral view "If we can-"

"Duck!"

Instinctively he ducked at the commanding voice that rang out, just in time for a small cluster of circular objects to come flying over his head and smash right into Spider-Man's chest, sending him flying backwards and onto the roof of a parked car with a bang, immediately setting off a painfully loud, screeching alarm.

Percy's eyes snapped forward again and he came to an abrupt stop, his heart sinking at the sight of a familiar man, his arm outstretched and aimed towards where the hero had gone down. He instantly knew who he was. Who wouldn't? You'd need to be living under a rock not to know that the man in front of him was Captain America.

His arm dropped down, and he realized that whatever had been shot at Spider-Man had come from the gauntlet type weapon around his wrist. He automatically took a step back, not taking his eyes off of him. Even when Wanda started walking towards him.

"Thank god I found you." Steve's face softened at the sight of her. His eyes shifted towards him after a few seconds, something in his eyes betraying his confusion, even if his face remained impassive. "Who is this?"

He couldn't help but squirm slightly under the powerful gaze of Steven Rogers, taking another step back. He could feel his blue eyes seeming to pick apart every single aspect of him. In fact, he wouldn't be at all surprised if he was doing exactly that. Stripping him down to see through his very being.

"I'm... No one really. I'm not important, but I've gotta... Yep, I've really gotta go now." He was being suspicious. _Terribly_ suspicious. He knew it. He absolutely knew it, and he wanted to cringe. But he really had to go before this escalated more. Even if that meant just sprinting away before the other super soldier could catch up to him.

"Wait!" Oh god, not again. He turned his head slightly to see Spider-Man getting to his feet again, the devices that had been used to incapacitate him seeming to have worn off. He froze at the sight of the two Avengers together though. Well, ex-Avengers. "Oh... Hey-Hey Mr. America, sir."

Steve's eyes traveled to the other superhero at the sound of his voice however, seeming to relax slightly, as if he were relieved to see the kid. "Hey." Percy took another step back, keeping his eyes fixed on the biggest threat to him at the moment-Steve. 

A soft, mechanical whirring noise caught his attention however, and his stomach dropped at the all too familiar sound. "Oh no..." He murmured. Steve seemed to hear it too, as he tensed up again and looked towards the sky, his expression hardening and his stance changing into a more defensive one within seconds.

_'Aaaaaaand there goes my hopes for escape...'_

He turned to the sound, a slightly distressed groan escaping his lips almost immediately. He knew it. Tony Stark, in all his metal glory, landed on the street next to the spider themed hero. His mask tilted to look from Spider-Man, to Percy, and then finally to Wanda and Steve.

"Well, isn't this day just going swell!" Tony said, sarcasm dripping from his words venomously.

"What do you want, Stark?" Steve asked, his tone guarded yet stern as he took a step forward, angling his body in front of Wanda's protectively. Possibly without even realizing it. 

"Oh, besides a pony?" He snarked, glancing towards Spider-Man momentarily as he jumped off of the car to stand beside him. "I'm not here for you anyway, Captain."

Percy stiffened as Tony turned his head to look at him, raising up an arm to point.

"I'm here for him." 


	8. Chapter 7

Percy's blood ran cold as everyone turned their attention to him now. Put on the spotlight, all he could do was look at each of them in turn, his jaw clenching and his body practically vibrating with the need to do... something. Anything to get out of this situation. This was not good, this was not good at all. It was bad enough that Stark was after him, but a group of four heroes, each with powers of their own, working together to take him down?  Especially with the state his shoulder was in?

Percy wasn't an idiot. He knew he that he was utterly screwed.

His gaze met with Steve's and he could practically see the gears shifting behind the clear blue eyes, his expression guarded, but apprehension and confusion shining through like a beacon. Suspicion laced his stance, but he didn't appear to be hostile. Not yet, at least. He counted that as a win so far.

"He barely looks over twenty, Stark." He responded, doubt clouding his voice. "Why on earth are you after a teenager?"

Tony's viser swung open, and he could see the still dark bruises and dried blood staining his face. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see both Wanda and Steve reel at the sight of his injuries. Percy inwardly winced, but for the sake of appearances, he looked just as collected as he had before. "For your information, Capsicle, I don't have to tell you shit."

Percy uncertainly looked towards the two of them in turns. Wait... They weren't going to work together to take him down? The rift between them must've been huge for Rogers to not even seem to contemplate helping him. The air between them fizzled and crackled with barely concealed anger and matching glares burned through each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Hell, even a butter knife would be able to slice through it. If he hadn't known better, he would be surprised that literal sparks hadn't started flying from the intensity. He had known that the Avengers had disbanded and there had been bad blood between them, but to this extent? What really happened in Siberia? All he knew was what had been in the very vague report that had been written up. And there had been little to no useful information anyway. Not even where Barnes was currently, which had, at the time, frustrated him immensely.

"I shouldn't be surprised though." Steve's even and rather cold voice broke through the momentary silence. "This isn't the first time you've brought a kid into a fight they don't belong in, and I'm sure it won't be the last." He seemed to aim this more towards the red and blue hero at Stark's side, who visibly shifted uncomfortably under the veiled insult to his mentor-type figure. That only confirmed Percy's suspicion about Spider-Man's age though.

"Excuse me?" Tony sounded-and looked-both affronted and pissed. "You _don't_ get to say that to me, Mr. Patriarchy. He is not-"

"It's true though." He cut him off, eyes sharp and flashing.

"You know what, don't talk to me or my son ever again." 

Even Steve hesitated at that, eyes widening fractionally and landing on the protective hand Tony had placed on Spider-Man's shoulder, and Percy could tell exactly what was running through his mind. In fact, he was thinking it too-but doing a much better job at hiding his shock. After all, he'd spent years practising authenticity and poker faces.

But... Was this Spider-Man actually his son? The files on Stark had never mentioned anything about children.

Tony's lip curled and he rolled his eyes. "It's a meme, Captain Cold. What, you've really never been on the internet before?"

Percy almost imitated him and rolled his eyes at that. Of course he would joke around at a time like this. He shifted his weight to his back foot, sliding backwards smoothly, trying his best to be unnoticeable. Unfortunately though, it caught the attention of Stark's protege, who took a step forward.

"Hey, don't move!" He ordered, but his young voice sounded almost strained. Understandable. After all, it's not every day that you're in the presence of not just one, but three Avengers. _'Ex. Ex-Avengers'_. His brain added in ever so helpfully. He froze immediately though, eyebrows drawing together in a slightly irritated frown at being caught out. He stared the kid down with one of the _looks_ he had perfected. The one he affectionately referred to as his 'wolf glare'. He squirmed under the intensity, but didn't back down. Huh. Surprising.

"You heard the kiddo. Don't you even move a muscle." Tony agreed immediately, raising his hand to aim a repulsor at him. Out of the side of his peripheral vision he could see both Wanda and Steve tense. He gritted his teeth and shifted his narrowed eyes to look at Stark, who was giving him a withering glare, challenging him silently.

"Stark, don't do this," Wanda spoke for the first time, looking at him imploringly, "Percy has done nothing wrong, I'm sure this has just been some kind of misunderstanding-"

"Percy?" He interrupted, swivelling his glare to look at Wanda instead, his expression almost outraged. "You-You know this criminal?" He demanded, voice accusing and harsh.

Wanda's face hardened defensively. "I do." She countered evenly. "More than you do, I'm sure."

"Oh?" He scoffed, hand drifting down slightly to his side without noticing. That was a good sign, at least. If she could distract him for long enough, then maybe he could make a wild dash for it. Then again, was the risk worth it? He couldn't tell just yet. He'd need to wait a bit longer to get all of the information necessary to calculate the risks. "Please, do tell me what a _murderer_ could have done to gain your favour."

He could feel the two others look at him again and he could practically see his chances of escaping dropping. He knew that if he met their gazes, he would find confused and stunned faces staring back at him. That's exactly why he didn't look, instead keeping his defiant expression towards the millionaire. Oh, sorry. _Billionaire_. 

He would never admit that he didn't actually want to see their expressions, only because of how they would make him feel though. He would _not_ feel guilty about his past. Being a murderer was never his choice. He had accepted that a long time ago. And honestly, when he finally realized it, it had felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his chest at the time. Now he only did what he had to do to survive. Survive or die, after all. That was what he had been taught. And god help him for saying this, but their training was what kept him alive all those years. But then again, they _were_ the reason that he had had to live on the run for so long as well.

But now, with Stark throwing it in his face like it was nothing, anger flared up inside of him like a tidal wave, and he had to clench his fists in order to keep them from flying and causing even more damage. He definitely didn't need that right now.

"I'm a good judge of character." Percy's anger dwindled at that, and he couldn't help but give the Scarlet Witch an apprehensive look. "I trust him."

_'Trust? She... She_ trusts _me?'_

Stark seemed to be as much at a loss as he was. "Are you insane?!" He sputtered incredulously, glancing between Wanda, Steve, Spider-Man and Percy in turns, looking positively scandalized.

"Perhaps." She agreed with a shrug of her slender shoulders.

Steve stepped forward, his big frame and blank expression making an almost intimidating picture. "I don't know who this kid is-" Percy fought the urge to wrinkle his nose at the term. He was most definitely _not_ a kid. But, he ignored it and kept his attention on the Captain. "-but if Wanda vouches for him, then I do too."

Percy's heart stopped for a moment, his throat constricting with something he couldn't quite identify at the moment.

_What_.

Was he serious? 

The two super soldiers exchanged looks again, and he was almost stunned by the sheer determination that he was met with. He was serious. He really was serious. Steven Rogers; Captain America himself, was willing to stand up to Tony Stark for him. _Him_. A nobody. A criminal. A murderer.

_Why?_

"You're not taking him, Stark."

_'This... was definitely not what I was expecting.'_ And by the darkening of Stark's expression, he wasn't either.

"Well," He started off, voice low. "I guess we've come to an impasse again, Rogers." His tone had a dangerous edge to it that made Percy's spine tingle and his skin crawl. His viser snapped shut again.

"I guess we have." Percy tensed as all four of the super-human's shifted into fighting stances, his stomach dropping. 

On one hand, two of them were willing to protect him. On the other hand, two were willing to do practically anything to capture him... Or kill him, depending on their orders. _'Greeeeaaaat.'_ The sarcastic voice in his head drawled. He really didn't know what to do as they all stood silently on the street, waiting. Unmoving and suspicious.

What he did know however, was that he had somehow managed to stumble into a war between two of the earth's mightiest heroes.

And he had no idea what to do.

He had been created, trained, mercilessly beaten until he was nothing but a shell of his past, his mind deadly sharp and his body a weapon of mass destruction. He had done impossible things. He had survived deadly situations. He had infiltrated top secret organizations. And all of that had been easy in comparison to the current moment in his life. His usually infallible mind came up blank. He'd never been in a position like this before. Should he... Run? Should he stay and fight? His eyes flitted towards the kid standing next to Stark and his resolve weakened. He definitely couldn't fight a kid. _'And to think I've taken down governments before...'_

His choice was made for him though when the sound of a blast reached his ears. Barely a microsecond later he was ducking and scrambling away, narrowly missing being hit. Tony launched himself at him, but was intercepted with a tackle that nearly bowled him over entirely. With him being distracted by the super soldier, Spider-Man immediately took his place, shooting a string of webs from his wrists.

Percy weaved to the side and behind a parked car, avoiding the seemingly endless barrage behind his makeshift shield for now. Was that stuff coming _out_ of him?! He let out a slightly relieved exhale when Wanda ran at him, throwing her hand out and sending out some sort of red energy that slammed into the kid and sent him flying down the street. He winced automatically at the hit, but he landed in a crouch on the ground. He lifted a hand up and shot into the air again, swinging down the street and towards him Wanda. He didn't seem to be injured or hurt from where he stood, which was good.

_"Snap out of it, soldat! He's your enemy!"_

He flinched at the all too recognizable voice that popped up into his mind, eyes instantly starting to dart around and mind working once more. This was suddenly a _very_ familiar situation. Danger, people coming after him, and no weapons on his body. He'd done this before. Many times before. He knew that he had to get out of there before things got worse. Assess. Counter. Escape. The words burned through his mind like a brand, a survival instinct that had been ingrained in him throughout the years kicking in. His gaze tracked the bigger of the threats currently-Stark, who was fighting brutally with Steve. The kid was still being dealt with by Wanda. No reinforcements. No need for countering immediately. Final step. Time to escape.

Tony managed to place a well aimed kick on Steve's chest, sending him crashing back and slamming into the side of a car. He pointed his repulser at Percy once again, but this time he saw it coming. He knew what to do. His preparation to avoid and counter the blow was entirely unnecessary however, as Wanda's magic crackled through the air and slammed into Stark before his suit could go off. It sent him staggering to the side like the suit was malfunctioning, his repulsor dying down momentarily.

He caught her eyes, her expression unwavering but slightly strained. "Percy, go!" 

So he did.

He fled down the street, leaving the fighting behind him. He'd had enough fighting for a thousand lifetime's after all. Running was not cowardice, he knew that from years of experience. Better to run and get to live another day. Then again, he'd also had enough of running as well. It seemed as though all he had been doing was running, fighting, and then running some more. _'Well isn't life just great?'_ He thought to himself tiredly. The sound of fighting behind him slowly faded away, making way for the more relaxing noises of blaring car horns and bustling civilians, completely oblivious to the things going on around him. An odd thing to be comforted by, but Percy didn't care. He was quite surprised though, that people hadn't started to notice the... Altercation going on far behind him.

He never slowed his pace, but he could feel his heart start to gradually stop pounding like a jackhammer in his chest and his breath to come a bit easier. Soon this would all be over, and he would be able to live a normal life again. Well, as normal as it could get with him. His eyes scanned around, mentally thinking of a way to get out of the area. Maybe if he made it back to the park, he could use his powers to travel again. But, even if he was touching water, it would still be a risk. After all, he'd already vapour-travelled thousands of miles across the earth barely an hour ago. _With_ another person, in fact. He didn't know if he'd even manage to make it anywhere beyond the city without collapsing again.

The sound of a slightly familiar whirring and a thruster filled his ears, sending a lurch of dread through him. He glanced up, fully expecting to see Stark flying above him. Instead, he saw a man wearing red goggles and mechanical wings. He turned midair and landed on the ground a few meters in front of him, having to run a few steps because of the momentum. Percy skidded to a stop, frowning warily as he watched the man in front of him, his wings folding in to a backpack type device.

"Hey! You're Percy, right?" He could feel a jolt of unease run through him at that. Did he work for Stark too? The man took his silence as an affirmative though. "I'm Sam. Cap sent me to help you."

Percy relaxed slightly out of his defensive stance, but his hard expression never dropped. Sam... Sam... Oh, Sam Wilson. Falcon. Now that he looked at him properly, he _could_ recognize him vaguely. Most likely from the files he had hacked into long ago. He had been apart of the Avengers. He sided with Steve. He was safe for now.

"Follow me." The ex-Avenger turned on his heel and started walking quickly, before glancing over his shoulder and realising that the green eyed boy wasn't following him. "Unless you want me to carry you, of course."

Percy couldn't help but scowl at that. "No." He started following him though, matching his brisk pace evenly and ignoring the curious side glances that he was given. 

"You know, you kinda remind me of someone..." He trailed off, looking forward again.

"Oh?" He deadpanned, simply indulging him for the time being. His eyes flitted around slowly, trying to think. While it was kind of Sam to help him just because Rogers had said so, he knew that he still had to find a way to escape his current allies at some point.

"Yup." He nodded his assent. "He's tall, dark, and melodramatic as hell."

Percy let out a slight huff at that. _Melodramatic?_ Him? He didn't know whether to feel insulted or amused. "Well thanks." He muttered mutinously under his breath, earning him an amused grin in return, much to his surprise. "Where are we going anyway?" He finally asked, risking a glance over his shoulder. He knew that he had lost them a while ago, but still. He didn't know if Ironman would come flying out of nowhere again.

"To safety." He said with a shrug. He too was scanning his gaze around attentively, his hand resting on the gun holstered at his side. "We're close now."

"Close to _where_?"

"Our getaway vehicle, of course. I hope you're fit, 'cause we're about to climb a lot of stairs." He turned into a large parking lot and led the dark haired teenager to the emergency staircase situated towards the middle.

"I'll be fine." He promised shortly, fighting the urge to slam Sam's head into a wall and sprint away. He didn't like this. He didn't like having to rely on people for survival. And he definitely didn't like how open and friendly he was being. What was with team 'Cap' and trusting random people they meet? Didn't they know any better? He just let out a long, drawn out sigh and followed him up the staircase, taking them two at a time. 

What Sam had promised to be a lot of stairs were only five levels of them. Five. He could probably run up them in just over a minute if he wanted to. The bird themed hero was huffing slightly though by the time they made it to the top. "I told you."

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips without meaning to. "Yeah, you sure did." He humoured him. Why not? He _was_ helping him, after all. He pushed open the door leading to the top floor of the lot and the two of them stepped out.

Percy blinked a few times at the sight of a large black aircraft taking up multiple parkings spaces. The roof itself was empty of other cars, which he supposed was either smart, lucky, or both, since no civilians would be able to see it then. His eyes raked over the jet like vehicle as he walked towards it slowly. He'd never seen anything like it. With its triangular shapes and circular angles, it looked far more advanced than anything that he had ever seen before. Even Quinjets had nothing compared to this.

Sam seemed to catch his undoubtedly surprised look because he chuckled and headed towards it. "Pretty cool, huh?" The bay door slowly swung open with a soft hiss of air, revealing an almost luxurious interior. Odd, seeing as it was obviously a fighter aircraft. Sam didn't hesitate in stepping aboard. Percy took a little longer to enter though, his body tense and his mind whirring with possibilities. This could be a trap. And if it was, he probably wouldn't be able to escape once aboard. "The Royal Talon Flyer. Courtesy of one cat obsessed man." That caught his attention, from where he stood at the entrance, still not going inside just yet. Cat obsessed? _What?_

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to talk about a king like that." A feminine voice reminded Sam, who was busy taking his goggles off. 

His blood seemed to stop in his veins when the speaker leaned out of her chair to look towards the two of them. Intense green eyes met his own a few seconds later, the sight of her face sending an electrifying jolt through his body. While her hair had changed and had been dyed blonde from it's previous brilliant red colour, he could still identify her immediately. Natalia Romanova. Or as most people currently knew her, Natasha Romanoff. Ex-assassin from the Red Room. Someone that he had only met a few times, but each time had been unpleasant for the both of them. 

But, for once in his life, Percy could thank his lucky stars. She didn't seem to recognize him. Her eyes flickered over his face, then shifted back towards Sam, her expression never changing. He let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, finally stepping forward and into the jet uncertainly. He'd definitely have to keep a wary eye out on her. Just in case. After all, if you let your guard down for even a second, you could be dead moments later. He knew that better than most.

"King?" He asked, finally speaking up again. He made sure to keep his tone sounding curious instead of the usual demanding, almost interrogating way he spoke when he wanted to know something. There was nothing that would trigger Natalia's suspicious more than that at the moment. Natasha's? Natalia's? He almost shook his head to dislodge the questioning thought. He didn't need to be focusing on what to call her.

"Mhm." Sam hummed in agreement, looking out the aircraft and over the parking lot, as if expecting someone. Oh. Steve and Wanda, _of course_. This was their 'getaway vehicle' after all. "T'Challa's actually a pretty chilled dude. You know, when he's not trying to arrest you and your friends."

T'Challa. King of Wakanda. Black Panther.

Oh god this was all going downhill so fast. He should've known better than to help Wanda. He should've abandoned her, threat or no threat. That was the start of the trouble, _she_ was the start of her trouble. Well perhaps not the _very_ start, but still the cause of the mess he was in now nonetheless. He ran his fingers through his windswept hair. Maybe now would be a good time to just disappear-

"Natasha, start liftoff!" All three people in the jet flinched at the voice that shattered through the air, turning to look at the source. Steve and Wanda were sprinting towards them as if hell itself was hot on their heels. The vehicle hummed to life under his feet immediately and he automatically leaned a hand against the wall to remain steady as the jet shifted. Steve reached them first and leapt aboard with ease. Closer up, Percy could see cuts and bruises littering his body. The sight made him want to wince. This was all his fault. He peered out of the slowly closing bay doors at Wanda, silently willing her to run faster. Without thinking he reached out, his other hand gripping onto the edge of the opening.

"Come on!" He near yelled, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone without him even noticing. Wanda grabbed onto his hand and he heaved backwards, pulling her inside just as the jet lifted off of the ground and started moving. She almost doubled over, panting tiredly and her breaths coming in great heaves. The door slid closed and he let go of the killer grip he had had on it.

"That was... That was too close."

"All right everyone, time to sit down and strap in. We've got a long flight ahead of us."

Percy patted Wanda's shoulder absentmindedly, as if reassuring her, then moved away to sit down on one of the luxurious, yet futuristic looking seats. He frowned slightly at the much too comfortable chair, shifting around. In his experience-well, what he could remember of it-travelling by plane wasn't always pleasant. Majority of the time he had used fighter jets to get to and from missions, and those journeys were never enjoyable.

_He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at the belt tied securely around his waist with clammy palms. The shuddering and shaking plane around him made his stomach lurch and a sick feeling rise up in the back of his throat. A soft, almost keening whine escaped his mouth, unnoticeable to all but one person. A barking laugh erupted from right next to him, making him flinch and open his eyes in a slight squint to see what the cause of the noise was. The man next to him, his handler at the time, was grinning from ear to ear, eyes alight with a vicious amusement._

_"What's wrong, soldat? Afraid of a little height?"_

He snapped his eyes open, a rush of flashing memories passing through his mind. He lifted a hand to his nose, thankfully not feeling anything yet. 

He could remember hating _that_ particular handler with every single fibre of his being. More so than the others. Especially when he had gone running to his supervisors all too eagerly to tell them that their 'perfect weapon' was afraid of flying. That following week-or month, really. He couldn't exactly tell how much time had passed by, but every moment had been truly awful anyway. Every single thing about it. He'd been forced to relive his terror over and over and over again, until he finally thought he was going to break. Wiped so many times that even his primal fear had been washed away along with his memories. The one thing he had been petrified about his entire life no longer even affected him. The anchor that kept him _human_ destroyed. None of his fears ever lasted long, in fact. 

And neither did that handler of his.

He tensed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, quickly glancing over to find Wanda frowning at him, something akin to concern pinching at her features. "Are you all right?"

His eyes ran over her form for a few seconds, an eyebrow raising at her appearance. Her clothes were scruffier and dirtier than usual, and she had a few bruises already forming. "I should be asking you the same thing."

She rolled her eyes, buckling herself into the seat next to his. "I'm fine."

"If you say so." He shifted in his seat again, copying her and strapping himself down. The gentle rocking of the jet didn't faze him at all.

Those... _flashbacks_ , memories, whatever they were, were happening much more frequently lately. Perhaps Hydra's-or S.HI.E.LD's-hold over him had finally been broken. He wouldn't dare test that theory however.

"Where are we going anyway?" He asked out loud for everyone to hear.

"Wakanda, of course." Steve answered him simply. "You'll be safe there. We all will."

His heart sank. 

Oh no.

_Wakanda?_

The jet curved to the side, causing his fingers to automatically clench tightly against the arm rests and forget about his problem for the time being.

"Steve? We have a problem." Natasha's voice broke the comfortable silence that had hung over them. "We've got a tail."

Percy turned his seat to look towards the Captain, watching quietly as he ran his hands over his face. "Can you shake him?"

"Probably not. After all, this _is_ Tony."

"Well... Try, at least. We can't let him follow us. Try get us into the clouds." He suggested. The Royal aircraft tilted upwards and sped up, trying to lose the ex-Avenger.

The sea eyed boy swung his chair back around again and closed his eyes. If Tony caught him... He didn't know what would happen. But he couldn't let it happen. He allowed his focus to expand outwards and into the clouds around them. He could feel the familiar tug in his gut and he grasped onto the feeling.

"It looks like a storm is gathering." Percy could hear the blonde woman's frown in her words alone. "That's weird, there were no signs, no warnings, nothing."

"Let's not look a gift horse in the mouth. Steer us into it. Maybe it will mess with his radars."

His eyebrows creased together, concentrating intensely on getting the storm to become stronger. He started to hear the rain hitting the window and the wind pick up. The Talon Flyer shuddered violently at a particularly strong piece of turbulence. Then again. Thunder cracked in the distance like the weapon of an angry god smashing down onto the earth. He could feel a gaze burning through him, but he didn't dare to open his eyes in fear of breaking his hold over the sudden storm.

"Hold on, everyone. This is going to get a bit bumpy."


	9. Chapter 8

Percy's expression was almost unnaturally gentle and soft, his lashes dark against his tanned cheekbones and his chest rising and falling evenly with each deep breath he took. The exact picture of someone in a peaceful slumber.

He wasn't though.

He hadn't been the entire time, but so far no one had managed to realize.

His mind was racing with thoughts, as per usual. He could hear Wanda breathing slowly from the chair beside him. Now _she_ was definitely sleeping. And had been for quite a long time. So had Sam, actually. He had been hearing small snores coming from the man's direction occasionally, and when he had looked earlier, he had seen him strung over two seats with his eyes closed and his mouth slightly agape. He wouldn't have been surprised if he started to drool.

He'd been faking his relaxed pose for just over an hour or so. It was difficult to tell time with his eyes closed after all, but he _could_ estimate pretty well. After all, he did have practice. He had often had to sit and wait for targets and perfect opportunities to arrive in order to complete his missions the best way he could. Even if that meant remaining still for hours on end. 

Maintaining his current position had been far too easy, and none of them even doubted him. He wasn't sure if that disappointed or relieved him. They had managed to lose Stark quickly enough after they had directed their course into his storm, allowing him to disband it again sooner than he had thought he would. That had been great, since he hadn't been sure he would be able to last much longer holding it up. He'd probably have passed out right there and then. Thankfully, that had not been the case. Things had calmed down after that, and everyone had settled down quickly enough.

He shifted in his seat and tilted his head further back against the headrest, an almost satisfied sigh-like breath escaping his slightly parted lips. There was no sound save for the gentle humming of the jet's purring engine beneath his feet and the soft living signs of the other passengers. The lights inside had dimmed until the cabin was bathed in comfortable shadows and only the barest hints of illumination were left present, as if they were twinkling stars in the sky. 

Before he had started feigning sleep, he had noticed that the sun had already set a while ago in the area they were currently flying over. The outside world was dark and silent, the clouds their only companion in the quiet of the night. The sky shone with the deepest hues of blue and black, the only break in the constant darkness being the glimmering starshine above and the white clouds that drifted past like great ethereal beings. 

Always moving, shifting, changing. 

Never intruding.

Never disturbing. 

Simply being. 

Peaceful and benign.

Beautiful in an otherworldly, yet natural way.

The aircraft swayed from side to side slowly, the feeling reminding him of the soothing feeling of being in water, waves rippling and washing over him, his body rocking along gently. Going along with the flow without any complaint. Smoothly. Placidly.

A warmth spread through his chest at the comparison's rather pleasant familiarity. The vague thought put a serene smile onto his face, and in the back of his mind he was definitely glad that it must've looked like he was just dreaming. The entire atmosphere just felt like what he imagined being at your home was like. Subdued. Comfortable. _Safe_. He couldn't recall feeling this at ease in a long time. 

The tranquility of the motions around him and the companionable silence slowly lulled his mind into an unwilling, yet not unwelcome state of complete bliss. His thoughts slowly became foggy and clouded over, giving way to the soothing peacefulness instead. And for once, he allowed himself to relax and let his guard down.

He didn't know how long had passed in his almost dream like state, but at some point he became aware of a hushed voice coming from the front of the aircraft. With an inaudible, almost mournful sigh, he pulled himself back into reality, forcing himself to come out of his much too phlegmatic state of mind and instead focus on what was going on around him. He felt weirdly tired, as if he had legitimately just waken up. He kept his eyes closed and his body as limp as it had been before however.

"What is he doing here?" He heard who he identified as Natasha murmur quietly. He could feel a pair of gazes burning through the side of his head, but he didn't move even an inch, making sure that his breathing remained at the same steady pace. So they were _definitely_ talking about him. He could already feel his mind start to sharpen again, his tiredness washing away quickly and being replaced with his usual alertness. Relaxing time was over, and he knew it.

"Percy? He was with Wanda. Stark was there, I couldn't just... leave him." Steve. She was talking to Steve. His voice was low as well, matching hers in volume "You should have seen Tony, Nat. He looked like he got into a fight with someone twice his size."

_'Twice his size. Yeah right.'_

"You'd know something about that, wouldn't you?" Her voice took on a more teasing tone to it, one that Percy definitely wasn't familiar with. "But are you really surprised? You know him almost as well as I do."

"I suppose not." Steve let out a sharp exhale. They were both quiet again for a little while after that.

Natasha finally spoke up again after a few minutes of quiet, sounding almost thoughtfulness. "But what was he doing with Wanda?"

"I don't know. But however she met him, he must've done something pretty damn good. She trusts him. I don't know why or who he is, but she does. She's not willing to fight for just anyone. You and I both know that."

The aircraft jerked to the side very slightly with a gust of stronger wind, but he just allowed his head to roll to the side slightly along with the movement, maintaining his floppy and unassuming posture.

"There's something else to consider though." Steve said, voice still lowered in volume, as if not wanting to wake anyone up. Most likely because of him, in fact. "Tony was after _him_. Not Wanda, not me, but him. Tony was willing to let us walk as long as we allowed him to take him. Wanda was the only reason I told Sam to find him and get him to he jet."

"Are you sure that was a smart idea though?"

"Of course I'm not sure. But what else could I do? He was clearly in trouble. Besides, Wanda wouldn't have left without him. I could tell. She seems to have this weird loyalty to him."

"But bringing him to Wakanda? You know how T'Challa feels about... Unannounced guests. Especially ones you know little to nothing about."

"What should I have done then? We were only there to find Wanda, make sure she was all right, then head straight back to Wakanda. That's all. _That_ was the plan. He was an unexpected complication that none of us accounted for. I did the only thing I could think of at the time. Besides, he looked like he could use the help."

"This might be more dangerous than you realise, Steve. He's-"

A particularly loud snore erupted from across the plane and silenced their conversation, and he could hear Sam move from where he was stretched over his two seats. He knew that the two ex-Avengers were looking around at each of them in turn, as if checking to see if they were still asleep. He could hear Wanda shifting slightly in her sleep next to him, but she didn't resurface for even a moment. The two of them were quiet for a while longer.

"We'll continue this later."

"Steve-"

"Later." His commanding tone seemed to work on her for now, since she didn't try to speak up again. "We're here anyway."

Now that it was brought to his attention, Percy noticed that the aircraft was descending. Taking a risk, he opened his eyes fractionally to peer out through his eyelashes. Thankfully it seemed as though Steve had returned to his seat, and Natasha was too focused on piloting the jet to notice. He cracked his eyes open a tiny bit more, looking out through the window. While it was still dark, he could see the outline of the thick cluster of trees _. 'We're here? Where is_ here _? All I see are trees.'_ He kept watching though, frowning slightly in confusion.

His breath hitched slightly when their surroundings suddenly changed as if they had gone through an invisible portal. Towers and buildings rose up gracefully from the ground, bright lights illuminating the highly advanced city. His eyes widened slightly as they moved around, taking in everything and anything that he saw. Mountains surrounded the city, like a valley, the luscious greens almost looking darker than the sky itself. The aircraft drifted down and between stretched out buildings. Despite it being obviously late at night, the area was still bustling with activity.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" He jerked slightly, turning his head over his shoulder to see Wanda smiling at the view sleepily. When had she woken up? He only nodded in response though, bringing his eyes back to the front to continue watching. He could vaguely hear Steve start waking Sam up, but he couldn't bring himself to pay attention to their exchange. He _could_ hear Sam grumbling tiredly while he was being woken up though. He quickly blinked a few times and raised a hand to rub at his eyes. He silently prayed that no one would look twice at him. Or at least that they would not notice that he was already clearly awake. He forced his mouth to stretch into a yawn for good measures.

"Welcome to Wakanda, Percy." He looked up, rather surprised to see Steve directing his words towards him, a warm smile on his mouth and a soft look in his eyes. He looked away again after barely a second of eye contact, feeling almost flustered. Why was he being so... So _nice_ to him? First standing up for him against Tony, and then Natasha? He just didn't understand it. Why would anyone want to help _him_?

His fingers clenched into the armrests hard enough to make his joints ache as the Royal Flyer started descending quicker, the nose of the aircraft tilting downwards. He prised his clamped fingers off with some difficulty, forcing himself to relax again. _'Huh. I guess old habits die hard.'_

He watched as the ground slowly moved up to greet them, and then suddenly the jet was coming to a grinding halt and touched the ground. He almost made a small noise of surprise at the extremely smooth landing. Even HYDRA's vehicles had never been comfortable like this aircraft had. Then again, they definitely didn't care about making anything pleasant for him. After all, he was just a weapon to be used, they didn't care about him. They never did.

He noticed Wanda unbuckling herself so he did as well, standing when she did. She gave him a reassuring smile that he tried to return but came out more of a grimace. The bay doors drifted open and Steve stepped outside, Natasha right next to him. He trailed after Wanda uncertainly, hearing Sam trudging after him with soft mumbles to no one but himself.

Sea green eyes flickered around slowly as he took everything in. Warm lights lit up the area around the jet and a few dark skinned women milled around the landing pad. Each of them wore similar traditional African garments of some kind and many held spears and other weapons in their hands. The way they held themselves and the way they stood was intimidating enough, not to mention the guarded expression each of them held. It was clear with only a quick glance that they were highly trained. The sheer intensity of their eyes seemed to see right through him, down to every last detail. It made him feel tiny and powerless.

His fingers twitched unconsciously. He felt like he needed to protect himself, but so far none of them seemed to pose a threat to him. A few did give him curious, if not wary, looks. But none spoke up, instead nodding silently in greeting to the others as they walked past. He stuck close to Wanda's side, feeling the cold sensation of dread curling in his stomach. He didn't belong here. Surrounded by potential enemies and no way of escape. The only thing he could think of was to use his powers, but he knew that it was still too soon. Conjuring up that storm had really taken it out of him and he knew it.

"You're later than I expected." He looked up at a rich, slightly amused voice. He stiffened slightly at the sight of a prominent figure he had only seen on TV. The King of Wakanda, in all his glory, stood before the group with a gentle smile and kind eyes. 

Percy had to admit, T'Challa was... not at all what he had expected. He had seen a powerful leader, an intelligent man, an influential role model. A man with a perfected poker face. Grounded, logical, rational. Cold in his decision making and never doubting his choices. Someone people looked up to. Infallible. Mighty.

Who stood in front of him however, was a relaxed, idle and relatively unassuming guy wearing what looked almost like pajamas, as if he had just been roused out of bed. 

He knew not to underestimate people though. That could lead to really bad situations. 

He'd learnt that the hard way.

"We encountered a slight problem, but it was nothing we couldn't handle." Steve answered, giving him a slightly apologetic smile.

He tensed slightly as the king's gaze shifted towards him, his eyes questioning. "And who is this?"

Percy's stomach sank slightly. He really was in trouble. After all, he couldn't exactly give him a fake name, even if all of them had cover stories and proof behind them, because all of the ex-Avengers around him knew his real name. God, he was stupid. He would kick himself if he could. "Percy Jackson." He said, forcing a seemingly natural smile on his face as he extended a hand politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Percy. I'm T'Challa." He introduced himself politely and shook his hand, his grip surprisingly strong. Obviously blissfully unaware that he already knew who he was. He let go again and looked to Steve curiously.

"We found him with Wanda, he was in... a bit of trouble." He explained vaguely, giving him a certain _look_. One that Percy could identify and understand immediately. Wow. They _really_ weren't subtle. T'Challa seemed to get it as well and nodded.

"Well, he can stay here as long as he pleases." His tone was welcoming, but Percy just couldn't bring himself to trust how... how _easy_ this all was. It also didn't help that they were currently talking as if he wasn't there at all.

"Thank you." Was all he said however, dipping his head slightly in acknowledgement.

He didn't really know how to address the King of Wakanda, or if he should do something respectful like kneel or bow. But the others were acting like he was just a normal guy, so that was what he would do as well. And by the looks of it, T'Challa didn't mind.

"It seems we have much to discuss. But, it's late and I'm sure you're all tired. We'll get you settled in and we can talk again in the morning." He turned on his heels and started walking, the others immediately following his lead and trailing after him. He remained at the tail end of the group, keeping his guard up but his posture relaxed, as if he was completely at ease. He flinched automatically as the guards lifted their arms and crossed them over their chests in unison, their spears glinting in the artificial light dangerously as they moved. T'Challa repeated the movement and they all dropped their arms again.

That didn't stop his heart from beating wildly and the blood rushing through his ears deafeningly though.

How the hell did they manage to make such a simple movement so intimidating? It might've been the women themselves who seemed so threatening. Then again, it could just be him who was far too paranoid. He forced his hands to unclench from their fists at his sides, casting a wary look among them slowly. His eyes caught on a pair of dark one that almost stopped him in his steps. The person who the eyes belonged to was a tall, proud women with a fierce gaze and a strong stance. She gave him a look of warning, as if she knew exactly who he was. 

But that was impossible.

It had to be.

He ripped his eyes away, breaking their eye contact and quickly hurrying after the others again, feeling chills racing up and down his spine. He didn't like it here. He felt as if everywhere he turned, danger was lurking around the corner.

He let out a long exhale, trying to shake the uneasy feeling away. He was safe for now. No one knew who he really was. And even if they searched for him, he knew that nothing would come up. After all, he wasn't even born in this time. And even if he had been, HYDRA had been especially careful to remove every single thing about his previous life. Just in case. Then again... That could also mean that they would be more suspicious of him. After all, he was practically a ghost according to his records.

He glanced to the side to see Wanda slowing her pace to instead walk beside him. "You look a bit shaken up. How are you doing with all of... This?" She gestured around and he realized that she must've been talking about Wakanda.

"It's... A bit much." He admitted, lowering his voice slightly. He didn't really want anyone else listening in on them.

"It must be." She gave him a slightly pitying smile, one that he wanted to cringe at. If there was one thing he hated people doing, it was pitying him. "After all, who would expect to be whisked off to a secretive country with a group of on-the-run vigilantes?"

"Not me." He huffed out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "But... I'll manage. I've been in worse situations before." Now that was _definitely_ true. He felt the need to shudder as his mind wandered back to one of the missions he had been on years ago. He'd never been back to Cairo after that week from hell. Even after his mind had been washed and he couldn't remember a thing, he had always felt the need to stay away from that particular place. 

He wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse to be able to remember so many of his previous missions. Some nights he would wake in a cold sweat, new memories in his head and the faces of the people he has killed behind his eyes. Some days he would be doing the most mundane of things and orders of missions would flash through his mind. It helped him a great deal to know about the things he had done. After all, he wouldn't be left in the dark with them. But it also haunted him to no end. It wasn't his fault, he _knew_ that. He had come to terms with the fact that he had been controlled throughout the years, forced to do the unthinkable. But it was still difficult not to acknowledge the torturous grief and guilt that plagued him from the dozens he had murdered. The torment he felt every time he looked in a mirror. It was hard not to blame himself, but he had been working on it for a long time. It was better than it had been, and that's a start.

"You can't just say that and not give an explanation, you know." She gave him an irritated look, but her eyes betrayed her amusement.

"Well..." He started off slowly, drawing the word out a bit. "Let's just say what happens in Cairo stays in Cairo."

"Cairo, huh? Well _that's_ not intriguing at all." She rolled her eyes, tone dripping with friendly sarcasm.

"Hey, I said what I said." He shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. Barely audible footsteps from behind him caught his attention and he looked back over his shoulder to see the same woman he had seen before trailing after them. He looked forward again to avoid catching her eyes, lips tightening slightly. "Who are they?" He asked Wanda, nodding with his head towards a pair of women with spears walking past them, dressed in the same outfits as the other ones he had seen.

"The Dora Milaje. T'Challa's personal guard. The woman walking behind us is Okoye, their general." Wanda said. Percy hadn't realized that she had known Okoye was following them. She must be more perceptive than he had thought. Or maybe she just knew her well enough to know that this was something she did often. Either way, it wasn't that important for his mind to dwell on it for too long.

T'Challa led them into the royal palace, and he felt rather surprised to see that there weren't many guards around. It _was_ late at night, but still. He had expected much more security. He looked around, not being able to help being a little in awe of the place. The architecture, the design, the technology, everything looked far more advanced and sophisticated than anything he had ever seen. But even his trained eyes couldn't see any security cameras or motion sensors. Nothing. So either the area was so well protected that they were confident enough not to have any security measures, or they were just hidden well enough that even he couldn't see them. He didn't know which one made him feel more perturbed.

"You will be staying here for the night, Percy." He startled at the sound of his name, looking up to see the group coming to a stop and T'Challa addressing him. "The others all have rooms along this hallway as well, so hopefully it will make you more comfortable here."

That was... surprisingly thoughtful.

_'Or just strategic.'_ A voice in his head doubted the thought. One that he agreed with immediately. This was more of a strategic move than one simply for his comfort. After all, if he turned out to be dangerous, there'd be a whole hallway of superheroes ready at any moment to take him down sleeping in the rooms next to his.

"Thank you again, for letting me stay here on such... Short notice." He gave him a disarming smile, shifting his expression to look both thankful and relieved. He was a good actor, and he knew it. So he wasn't very surprised to see T'Challa relax minutely and nod in response.

"Of course. Anything for a friend of Steve's." He clapped his hands together. "Well, goodnight to you all. As usual, if you need anything, you know where to find me." He turned and headed down the hallway, a chorus of 'goodnight's' and 'sleep well's' echoing after him. Percy watched as Okoye walked after him immediately, nodding to them all in lieu of a farewell.

"Well, today has been eventful. I'm sure we all need a good night's sleep." Steve spoke up once again.

"Agreed. I'll see you all in the morning." With that said, Natasha went her separate way to her room, footsteps as quiet as a summer night's breeze. Now that he took the chance to look around, he noticed with a start that they had lost Sam somewhere along the way. He must've been too distracted by his surroundings.

"Goodnight, you two." Steve smiled at them kindly, then followed Natasha's lead and left to go to his own room.

Wanda held her hand over her mouth as she yawned. Even though she had slept for quite a while on the jet, she was still visibly exhausted from not being able to sleep for very long the previous night.

"Go to bed, Wanda." Percy ordered her gently, the corners of his lips twitching upwards slightly. "You look like a zombie."

"Yeah yeah, I'm going." She rolled her eyes then patted his arm. "Goodnight, Percy. If you need anything, I'm just in the room opposite yours."

"All right great, thanks. Goodnight." He watched her walk to her door for a few seconds, before he turned and opened the door to his own room.

"You know..." He paused, hearing a slight tremor to her voice as she hesitantly spoke. He looked back at her, her back facing towards him and her hand resting lightly on the handle. "You..." She swallowed thickly, but didn't turn to look at him. "You remind me of someone I knew." His heart panged at the audible sorrow in her tone. But before he could say a word, she slipped into her room and shut the door behind her.

He shook his head after a few seconds of silence, trying his best to ignore the feeling of deep sadness that welled up inside of him at her confession. He didn't know exactly who she was talking about, but the grief he had heard had struck a cord inside him. He blinked a few times and entered his own room, closing the door quietly.

The room was large and spacious, with a large canopy bed, an old fashioned style wardrobe and a matching dresser, as well as a few fancy looking chairs and couches. A large TV took up most of a wall, the screen dark and dormant. The entire room was coloured with pale greys and deep purples and blacks. He went into the adjoining bathroom, a slightly amused huff escaping his lips. For a long time he had been living in run down apartments and houses, but over the past two or three days, everywhere he had been sleeping was somewhere far too luxurious for his tastes. He gently set his bag down onto the ground from where it had been hanging off of his shoulder, all but forgotten in the excitement.

He unbuttoned his shirt and dropped it onto the ground, looking over his shoulder as much as he could. He was extremely glad that his wound wasn't aching anymore, but he knew that it would still take quite some time to heal properly. He peeled the gauze off, eyebrows knitting together at the sight of it. Thankfully it wasn't infected, but the skin around it was still an irritated red colour and the wound itself still had a long way to go until it was better.

He sighed softly and stripped down, stepping into the overly large shower. There were far too many showerheads and handles than a shower _should_ have. There was even a little alcove supposed to be used for a seating area.

"This is ridiculous." He muttered to himself, hovering his hand over one of the many taps. "Which one am I supposed to-" A gasp tore its way out of his stiff body at the sudden spray of bitterly cold water that came from every direction, soaking his body instantly and freezing him to his very core. The nozzles shot water out from a few different angles at the top, as well as at chest height along the walls, buffering his body and unbalancing him for a good few seconds. While he loved being in water-cold water especially-this had come far too suddenly for him to enjoy it properly. He quickly turned another one, sighing in relief when he felt the water slowly start to warm up. He quickly scrubbed himself down, not wanting to be in the admittedly pleasant shower for too long. He switched the water off and stepped out again, the shower mat soft and all too fluffy beneath his feet. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself, a shudder running through him. Even the material between his fingers and against his still wet skin felt magnificent and plush.

This was too much. All of it.

Hell, even the finest hotels he had stayed at had never been this lavish and extravagant before. He didn't know what to do with anything. He felt uncomfortable just _standing_ there.

He looked over his shoulder once again, a relieved smile making its way onto his face at the sight. Within the few minutes in the shower, it had already started to look a bit better. The colour had gone down again and looked more natural, and the wound itself was a bit smaller. He got out some more gauze and stuck it into place over the injury with only a slight wince. Okay, so it still hurt to touch... Great. He got out his second last change of clothes, his lips pursing and a slightly disappointed frown settling onto his features. It was a pity that he had had to leave some of his things at his last apartment. He'd have to get some more clothes again somehow. And soon. He quickly got dressed, packing the rest of his things back in the bag and hanging the towel up again. He left the bathroom and dropped his bag on the bed.

A few sharp raps on the door caught his attention and he looked towards it, confusion flickering through him. Who would be-

More hard knocks. He stalked towards it slowly, his instincts kicking in and his feet shifting to keep his steps silent. He reached out a hand, brushing his slender fingers over the handle. He couldn't help but be wary. After all, it was what kept him alive for so long.

He turned the handle, but before he could open the door, it came slamming towards him. He lurched backwards clumsily, just missing being hit in the face. Thank god, that might've broken his nose if it had slammed into him. Now _that_ was not something he would want again.

A second before he could recover, he felt a hand at his throat and in the next moment his back was pressed roughly against a grey wall and his oxygen was cut off.

He gasped, automatically grabbing at the arm choking him, panicked oceanic eyes darting down to see Natasha Romanoff looking up at him, her eyes sharp and her face guarded. He gripped her wrist, but didn't break free just yet. He needed to see what she was going to do more than he needed to breathe. At the moment, at least.

"I know who you really are, Percy Jackson. Or should I call you... Maelstrom?" His stomach sank into the ground at the sound of that name, and if he hadn't been struggling to breathe as it is, all the air would've left his chest. His grip on her arm tightened fractionally, his entire body locking up with unconcealed horror. "Did you really think I wouldn't recognize you?"

She knew.

Oh god she knew.

_Of course she knew._

"I know who you are and I know _what_ you are. What I _don't_ know is why you were with Wanda. Why you were running from Tony." Her fierce green eyes bored into his own and flickered over his face slowly, picking every fibre of his being apart and studying him intensely. "So far you haven't been a threat to any of us, but don't think that means I trust you, because I don't. Not even a tiny bit." A cold fury that made a shiver run down his spine set her eyes alight with icy flames. "I won't do anything to you just yet. But mark my words, Maelstrom. The moment you do _anything_ to make me doubt you, the _moment_ you touch a single hair on any of my team's head, I will be coming for you." Her grip on his throat tightened further, forcing a strangled choke out of his mouth and black spots to dance across his vision. But still, he didn't fight back. "And I won't let you go this time."

Her fingers let go of his neck and he immediately took a greedy gulp of air, his hand letting go of her wrist to instead rub at his neck. He watched her with wide eyes as she stepped away from him, and despite being a good deal shorter than him and much more petite, looking far more dangerous than he had ever recalled her being. It terrified him, and he wasn't afraid to admit it.

She could tell everyone.

She could ruin everything.

She could _tell everyone._

He didn't say a word as she walked backwards to the still open door, not turning her back to him for even a moment. "Just remember, Jackson. I'll be watching you." With that ominous warning, she closed the door with a loud thud, and her quiet footsteps faded away. 

Percy let out a shaky exhale, allowing his legs to finally fall beneath him. He slid to the ground slowly, back still against the wall. He clutched at his neck, staring at the door with unseeing eyes, his mind echoing a constant mantra of,

_She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows. She knows._

He squeezed his eyes shut, lifting his hands to grip at his still wet hair. He could feel panic build up inside of him like an uncontrollable tsunami. Unyielding. Petrifying. Unstoppable.

_She knows._

_She knows._

_And she could destroy him._


	10. Chapter 9

Percy had barely slept all night.

He had tossed and turned constantly, throwing the way too many pillows and blankets all around the huge room, never once caring that they were strewn haphazardly along the floor.

The times he _had_ managed to go under was few and far between, and he had always surfaced again quickly, never falling asleep fully.

His mind was plagued by bone chilling threats and faces of the past.

Faces begging and pleading. Insulting and blackmailing. Bargaining and persuading.

And all of them wanting the same thing:

To live.

The feeling of cold fingers imprinted on his neck never faded, even as the night stretched out.

Or maybe it was his own imagination haunting him.

Among other things, of course.

But everything was... was _wrong_.

The bed too soft. The room too silent. His thoughts too loud.

He bolted upright with an almost animalistic snarl of frustration, raking his fingers through his hair and tugging at the dark strands roughly, feeling almost relieved at the sharp pain the simple action brought him. He bared his teeth and scrubbed at his eyes, taking no need to be careful. Everything was too much. The silence was killing him. 

The silence was _too loud._

He swung his legs off of the bed and stood up, feeling all too hot and claustrophobic. He could hear the blood roaring through his ears, as loud and constant as a rushing river. It was deafening. Almost overpowering the voices in his head. Almost.

Screaming. Crying. Begging.

He held his head in his hands, wanting nothing more but to rip his own ears off. Anything to make them stop.

_I know who you really are._

_'No, she doesn't. She **doesn't**!'_

_I know who you are and I know what you are._

_'No no no no no please, please **stop**.'_

_I will be coming for you._

_**'I've changed**!'_

_Maelstrom._

His legs trembled beneath him and he dropped to the ground without any warning, his limbs unable to take his weight any longer. He tilted his head back to look at the ceiling, almost choking on his panicked gasps, his chest tightening and his throat closing up.

He couldn't breathe.

 _He couldn't breathe_.

He brought his knees up to his chest and he pressed his palms against his closed eyes, sob like sounds coming from his mouth now.

_'I'm-I'm not him anymore! **I'm** **not him**!'_

It was too much.

Everything was too much.

_Everything was too much._

_**Everything was too much.** _

"Stop..." He whispered, his wheezing voice echoing around the room more than it should have. Or was that just in his head? He couldn't tell anymore.

He could only tell that he _couldn't breathe_.

His hands dropped at his sides again and he opened his eyes, realizing with a start that he was having another panic attack. What did he-he couldn't remember what to do. _What should he do?_

His eyes darted around the room frantically, searching. They landed on a deep purple pillow laying on the floor. 

He remembered.

 _One_.

His gaze shifted, landing on the beautiful mahogany dressing table.

 _Two_.

The next item he saw was his bag, a comforting sight for sure.

 _Three_.

He saw a tall grey candle resting on the bedside table by itself.

 _Four_.

He tilted his head slightly to look up, seeing the dark grey material of the canopy over the bed.

 _Five_.

His mind no longer felt as cloudy and clustered, his screaming thoughts slowly starting to die down. He reached out a shaking hand, slowly brushing his fingers over the soft carpeted floor of the room, feeling its gentle touch against his fingertips.

 _One_.

He moved his other hand out to the side, feeling the cool, smooth bedframe that he was leaning on.

 _Two_.

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling too dizzy and lightheaded for his liking. He touched his hand against the fabric of his pants, the texture unpleasant and coarse, but not painful.

 _Three_.

He grabbed ahold of his hoodie's string, twining it around his fingers and moving his thumb along the length of it slowly.

 _Four_.

He kept his hand in place and his eyes shut, instead focusing on the things he could hear. He gritted his teeth at the overbearing silence, his attack worsening slightly.

_'No, don't think. Just listen.'_

So he did.

The first thing he could hear was the far too quick sound of his beating heart. Like a ticking clock. Too fast to be normal, still steady. Relentless. Soothing.

 _One_.

The second thing that came to his ears was his blood. He could hear it pulsing past his ears. A sound that absolutely drove him crazy, but a sound nonetheless.

 _Two_.

He focused intently on the third thing he could hear in the silence of the room. For a while he couldn't hear anything else, tearing a slightly distraught whine from his lips. Oh.

His voice. 

He could hear his own voice. Of _course_.

 _Three_.

He let out a shaky breath, his chest still hitching and his hands still trembling, but the attack was clearly starting to recede. He inhaled deeply, not caring that every breath he took was far too jerky and loud. Was that... Lavender? Yes. Yes, he could smell lavender. It was faint, but it was definitely there.

 _One_.

He inhaled again, this time getting his own scent. The comforting smell of himself, most likely coming from his clothes.

 _Two_.

He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, the voices in his head seeming to have died out and his heart rate almost back to normal. He ran his tongue around his mouth slowly, trying to get something. Oh, there it is. The slight taste of the overly bitter painkiller he had taken before he had gotten into bed was still on his taste buds.

 _One_.

He sucked in a relieved breath, the tremor in it much less pronounced now. His heart had slowed down until it was just barely quicker than usual. His mind felt clear again and the voices were gone. The voices were gone, thank god. He ran his fingers through his hair again, ignoring how his hands shook with the after effect, as if he had too much adrenaline in his system. That was the first panic attack he had had in a _long_ time. In fact, it was one of the worse ones as well.

He got to his feet, forcing his joints to lock as he stood there so that they didn't collapse beneath him again. He hated how his legs felt like jelly, as if he had just run three marathons without stopping, shaking and weak from exertion. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he practically had to stagger to make it to the bathroom, leaning heavily against the wall and fumbling around in his effort to find the light switch without looking. He winced at the harsh light that popped on.

God, it was too bright. _Way_ too bright.

He suffered through it in silence however, and made his way over to the pristine marble sink. A tired and grimacing face stared back at him from the large mirror, dark bags hanging heavily under his eyes. His gaze flickered downwards and he swallowed thickly, immediately noticing the dark bruises that stretched around his neck, the shapes of fingers far too recognizable and visible for his liking. He hurriedly turned the tap on and scooped up a handful of water, throwing it on his face and rubbing his palms against his eyes. The cold water dripped from his cheeks and dripped down his neck. He didn't care about his clothes getting wet. After all, he could just dry it again whenever he wanted. And besides, the coldness of the water sent a soothing feeling running through him and a sigh of relief from his lips. The markings slowly disappeared before his very eyes, fading away to leave nothing but a clear canvas of tanned skin around his neck once more.

One less problem to worry about then.

He rubbed his face again, feeling his heart finally settle. He left the bathroom not long after that, debating whether or not he should take his backpack with him outside. On one hand, it might be a cause for suspicion, but on the other hand, what if he needed to make a break for it? He wouldn't be able to come back for it.

He pursed his lips, deciding to leave it. Just in case. He opened the door, peering down each end of the hallway. Both were empty, and there were no sounds coming from either direction. What was the time anyway? He hadn't bothered to check beforehand, and there were no windows in his room to look at the sky for an estimation. Oh well.

He started walking in the direction he guessed would take him further into the palace, based on where he had been led the previous night. The area was so quiet and still that even his light as a feather footsteps echoed loudly around him, and he fought the urge to make his footsteps silent to match it. He didn't like being so loud in comparison. It seemed too... Unprofessional.

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts _. 'Oh shut up, it's not like I still do missions.' He berated himself mentally._

He came to a stop, uncertainty creeping up into him. The hallway turned off into two different directions now and he had no idea where to go.

The sound of a door opening and closing gently, and vaguely familiar sounding footsteps entered his ears. The person he couldn't quite identify just yet approached him. "Lost already?" Ah, Steve.

Percy pretended to startle and turned around, pulling a sheepish smile onto his face. "Ah-Sorry, I just..." He gestured around jerkily, as if embarrassed. "I didn't... Hear you coming."

Steve only smiled at him though, amusement glinting in crystal clear eyes. "Don't worry about it. I've been told I'm a little too quiet sometimes." He chuckled softly. "Anyway, I can take you to get some food if you'd like?" He said, raising the end of his sentence and making it seem more like a question than a suggestion.

"Oh uh... Sure, sure." He was stumbling over his words. He knew it. Steve only nodded and started walking, leading him down the left hallway. He could feel his face burn and he only hoped that he didn't look too flushed. God he's an idiot. Why the hell was he speaking like a schoolboy with a crush?

 _Him_. Percy Jackson. One of the best assassins in his past. A metahuman. Someone who _always_ knew what to say was feeling slightly tongue tied.

Then again, how could he not?

He grew up in a time with Captain America defending their country and protecting their people. The star spangled man with a plan there in the front lines, defeating the bad guys and pushing back the Nazi's. The very first Avenger. 

And when he had been younger, his hero.

Being a kid with powers he didn't quite understand, how could he not idolise the super soldier? How could he not want to be him when he grew up, how could he not feel starstruck every time he was mentioned?

People say you shouldn't meet your heroes, and he understands why, he does. But after meeting Rogers... Well, how can you be disappointed with someone who puts trust in you and helps you when you didn't think anyone would? Of course he knew that his trust was likely misplaced-he would never forget what he used to be after all, but he still appreciated it. More so than he probably should, if he was being completely honest with himself.

Steve glanced over his shoulder momentarily to see if Percy was following him. The glimpse he caught of strikingly blue eyes sent his mind reeling with the almost overwhelming sense of familiarity.

_A toothy grin stretched across his small face, one of his front teeth missing entirely. That didn't seem deter the ecstatic expression on his face though. "Mom, mom! Did you hear what Cap-Capta-ain Am-merica did, mom?" He asked, words colliding with each other in their rush to come out, his difficulty in pronouncing certain words audible in his haste. A kind, melodious laugh filled the air. One that was far from unfamiliar and brought a warm feeling to his chest. Then there was a face smiling down at him, rich brunette hair pulled back in a loose plait and a loving expression on her beautiful face._

_"What did he do now, baby?" She asked, amusement twinkling in beautiful eyes._

_With a few well placed, and wildly exaggerated kicks and punches aimed at invisible enemies, he danced around the room, telling the dramatic story of how Steve Rogers defeated a whole building of bad men with his team. One that he had just heard from one of his friends, Frank. Another huge fan of Captain America. "And-And then, hi-ya!" He paused in his pose, panting excitedly and his hand still sticking out after smacking an invisible enemy. "And he won the day!"_

_"Wow, very impressive!" He looked up at his mother, pride shining on his face at the compliment. "He must've been very brave."_

_Percy nodded fiercely, still beaming. "Yeah!" He agreed, puffing his chest out. "If I were there, I'd kick their butts!" He crowed._

_"What, like this?" He looked over his shoulder just in time to be captured in a tight hug, squeals of laughter filling the room as Sally spun her son around the room, only stopping when the two of them got dizzy and were both grinning from ear to ear. She pulled him close to her and he clung onto her neck, burying his face into her hair. It smelt like... Like home. Like family. Like_ love _._

_"Mommy?" He asked, pulling his head back to be able to see her, green eyes blinking owlishly at her._

_"Yes, sugar?" She replied gently, shifting him so that she was holding him with one arm. She used her free hand to wipe a rogue strand of dark hair out of his eyes and smoothen down his hair with her palm._

_"Do you think-Do you think I could ever be a superhero like the Cap-Captain?" He spoke slowly now, only hesitating with his pronunciation for a moment._

_Her smile only widened at that and she tilted her head forward to press their foreheads together, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "When you grow up, you're going to be the best superhero in the whole world, Percy. You're going to help a lot of people. I know it." Strikingly blue eyes stared into his own, portraying a whole range of soft emotions that he could barely identify, but still knew. Contentment. Affection. Fondness. Love. It left a warm feeling of happiness in his heart. "You're going to be the best hero the world has ever seen."_

He sucked in a shaky breath, his eyes threatening to overflow with tears and his mind shell shocked.

_Mom._

_His mom._

_He remembered._

He forced his feet to start moving again, not knowing when he had stopped, but Steve wasn't too far ahead so he caught up again quickly. He raised a hand and wiped at his eyes, drying the tears up. It did nothing for the stinging feeling of wanting to cry forever though.

His mom. Sally. His mom.

He had been young at the time of the memory, he knew that. He wasn't sure how young though.

It still left a dull ache inside of him however. An almost empty feeling deep within his heart. A hole that could never be filled, no matter at he did.

Was remembering even worth the pain? Remembering the people that he had loved dearly, but had been ripped away from? Forced to forget every single thing about them?

"You're up pretty early, you know." He jolted out of his thoughts and wiped his eyes once more, hating how they had started tearing up again.

"Oh, really?" He asked, before clearing his voice at the almost hoarse sound that came along with it. "I didn't really look at the time."

"The only people awake are Sam and I." He said, leading him through the maze like building. Percy kept a mental note of which direction they were going though. Just in case, of course. "Force of habit, I suppose."

He nodded, before realizing that he was walking behind the supersoldier and he couldn't see him do that. "Makes sense." He added.

"You ever been in the military?" He asked, glancing over his shoulder once again. 

Striking blue eyes.

Percy took that as a sign and picked his pace up to instead walk beside him rather than behind. "I have, yeah." He responded, not quite looking at him directly. It could be the wrong move to be truthful about that, but it could be worse if he lied more than he had to.

"How long?" His tone sounded curious. But he wouldn't be surprised if he had another motive to his line of questioning.

"Two tours." Now that wasn't particularly a lie, since he had actually been in two tours when he was younger. That hadn't been during the actual war-he had been far too young at that point to even consider joining, but even so, he had been in the army. Before Hydra. Back in a time when he used his powers for good whenever he could, and he didn't think he'd ever be apart of any bigger picture than simply protecting his country and preventing another war. Back when he was naive and all too hopeful. Hah. Now that _really_ was a long time ago.

Percy felt a sliver of something akin to... Camaraderie? Solidarity? Fellowship? Blossom from within him. Both Steve and Sam knew what it felt like to be in a war zone. Both of them knew what it was to be a soldier. Both knew of the responsibilities. 

"How long ago was this?"

"Only about a year ago."

"Ah, no wonder you’re up early then." He nodded, expression showing a sympathetic kind of understanding. The hallway finally opened up into a large room that appeared to be used as a dining area of some kind. A beautifully designed table took up most of the room, fine carvings decorating the legs and sides with murals of animals and environments that seemed to come more and more alive the longer he looked at it. "The kitchen is just behind here." He told him, taking him through another door, revealing an even larger room-this one with an array of cooking equipment, devices and people already milling around, despite it being in the early hours. "They’ll cook anything you ask for. And believe me when I say that they can make some of the best dishes." Percy’s sea green eyes trailed around slowly, taking everything in. This was... The biggest kitchen that he had ever seen in his life.

"Well?" He prompted, a hint of an amused smile visible at Percy’s expense. "Go ahead and order something."

"I don't…" He trailed off uncertainly. "I don't know what to ask for."

Steve only laughed. "Don't worry, I'll order _for_ you then."

Barely half an hour later found him sitting next to his childhood hero at a way too big table, still hot waffles stacked on a plate in front of him and a cup of delicious smelling coffee practically begging him to drink it. If he was being honest, he could get used to this kind of thing. 

He immediately discarded that dangerous thought however. He didn't belong here and he knew it.

He looked down at the food, the smell wafting through the air heavenly and mouthwatering. There was icing powder dusted over the top and syrup absolutely drowning them, just like how he had hesitantly asked them to do it. Just how he liked it. After all, he had grown up in a time where sugar and other products like that were rationalized. Having anything sweet was always a treat for him, no matter what it was.

"What are you waiting for?"

He glanced to his side, Steve's eyes crinkling as he smiled at him. He'd never realized that Captain America had such soft expressions when he wasn't fighting. Did he always smile this much, or was he just trying to make him feel more relaxed? He honestly couldn't tell at this point.

"Uhm... nothing, I guess." He said. Following Steve's lead, he started eating-albeit more hesitantly than the other supersoldier. He almost let out a moan at the taste that enveloped his tongue at the first bite, the sugary sweetness and the soft fluffiness of the waffle was to die for. Or to kill for, perhaps. That made his apprehension disappear immediately and he dug in.

By the time that he was halfway through his second one and he had already finished his coffee, Steve was already on his third, the only sounds being the clinking of cutlery against plates and the soft bustle coming from the open kitchen door. It was silent save for that, but it was a companionable silence, comforting and relaxing.

"I know that all of this is probably a huge shock for you." Percy paused in his chewing as Steve set down his knife and fork and gave him a sideways glance. "It’s not every day stuff like this happens."

"Well you’re right about that." He muttered, causing Steve to laugh for a few moments before becoming serious again, shifting in his seat to look at him full on. His eyebrows drew together slightly and his expression took on a more solemn look that made him want to squirm in his seat. As if he was incredibly disappointed.

"But still... I’m not going to ask you why Tony was after you, I’m not going to ask why he called you a murderer. I’m not going to demand answers from you." Percy swallowed thickly, finding himself unable to tear his gaze away, no matter how much he wanted to. "We all have things in our past that we’d rather keep buried. And so long as your secrets don’t endanger any of us, we’ll protect you like one of our own. You have my word."

Percy could feel a weird lump form in his throat, making it difficult to speak and swallow. "Thank you." He managed to get out, his voice quieter than he had thought it would be, barely above a whisper.

Steve’s eyes softened and he rested his hand on his shoulder gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You’re safe here, Percy. You really are."

He looked down, skin feeling considerably colder when Steve removed his hand again. "Why?" He asked, unable to look him in the eyes anymore. "Why are you... trusting me? You don’t know me. You know nothing about me-"

"I know that you’re wary." Steve cut him off. Percy’s eyes flickered back up to his slowly. "You enter a room and look around like there could be enemies anywhere. When people make loud noises or sudden movements, you tense up like you’re about to be attacked. You walk too quietly, you hesitate before answering questions about yourself, and it's clear that you’ve been on the run. Probably for a long time." He could feel his heart come to a shuddering halt in his ribcage. How the hell- "I don’t who trained you or why, and I'm not going to pretend to know what you’ve been through. But I know that you’re scared. You're looking for a place where you can be safe, where you can be free."

Percy let out a long breath, blinking a few times. "How did you..."

"How did I know?" He finished for him, a sad smile curving at his lips. "I know someone who was in a situation like yours. I’m more intuitive than most people think, you know." They both fell silent at that, Percy lost in the thoughts swirling around his head.

"Natasha," He started off hesitantly, tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie nervously. "She..."

"Natasha doesn’t trust anyone unless she knows them well." He explained gently. "She’ll warm up to you I’m sure."

"No, I mean..." He paused again, frowning deeply. His mind was conflicted. He wanted to tell Steve about his past. He _really_ wanted to tell him, but... It would change everything. It might even ruin everything even more. But he _should_. "Steve, I-"

"Good morning, you two." Percy's hands tightened slightly at T'Challa's all too quiet entrance. It disturbed him at how easy it had been for him to sneak up on them. Percy forced a natural smile onto his face as T'Challa gave him a polite nod. "I hope everything was to your liking?"

"It definitely was, thank you."

"Well I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation, but I need to talk with you, Steven. If you don't mind, of course."

Steve gave Percy an apologetic look as he stood up. "We can continue this later, yeah?"

"Yeah." Percy agreed, almost sighing. Maybe it just wasn't the right time to tell him anyway.

"In the meantime," T'Challa started, talking to Percy once again. "Feel free to explore the palace all you want. Or you could even wait for the others to wake up. It's your choice." With that, the two men left the room, neither of them talking to each other just yet. Most likely because they didn't want him to listen in on them.

His appetite effectively ruined, he pushed his plate away, the once delicious taste in his mouth long gone. Since Steve had left his plate there, he decided to as well. He stood up and pushed his chair back in, if only out of a long forgotten habit, then started walking.

What was he thinking? He had almost spilled everything, and why? Because Steve was just being... _nice_ to him? Was that all it took nowadays? He could have smacked himself at his own stupidity. He could have messed everything up-even without the help of Natalia. Natasha. _Whoever_ the hell she called herself, he didn't care. _'But telling him could have helped too.'_ The little voice in his head piped in. This time he didn't bother in trying to argue. He was just tired of not knowing what to do.

His footsteps faltered and he looked around slowly, realizing that he was completely lost. He groaned and rubbed his eyes with his hands, mentally berating himself for being too lost in his thoughts and not paying attention to his surroundings. What was happening with him lately? He was acting... differently. Even _he_ knew it.

Taking a chance, he turned left down the next corridor, eyes raking around in hopes of finding a sign or something that would direct him. Very unlikely, but he could still hope.

No such luck. He was still completely and utterly lost after ten minutes of guessing which way to go. "Well this is just fantastic." He muttered to himself, walking in a random direction. "How the hell am I supposed to know where to…" His words ventured off slowly at the sight of an open door, a pale light shining through it and onto the floor and walls around it. "-go..." Maybe someone in there could help him find his way back?

He peeked around the corner, confusion flickering through him. It seemed to be a laboratory of some kind, the walls and floors all a pristine white colour and far too advanced looking lab equipment set up neatly all around the spacious room. He stepped inside hesitantly. No one was inside to stop him, so he continued his path through the room and towards the door on the other end. He opened it slowly, surprisingly finding it unlocked. Connected to the room was another large room, this one looking more like a tech room with multiple monitors and computers filling it, large screens stretching out across the walls. He glanced through them as he continued walking, his confusion only growing. A few of them showed feeds of empty pods of some kind, while others showed rooms he hadn't yet seen. Again, no one was in sight, not even on the screens.

Where was he? What _was_ this place? And where was everyone else?

He opened another door as quietly as he could and stepped inside, this adjoining room looking more like a medical bay or nurse station. Beds were spread out in even rows, medical equipment and machines set in place next to each.

He immediately froze at the sight of someone sitting perched on the edge of one of the beds, brunette hair brushing his shoulders and his back towards him. He couldn't see his face from where he stood, but even if he could, it would probably be hidden by his hair with the way his head was bowed down slightly. He wasn't moving, save for the soft rise and fall of his chest that even he could see from behind.

His gaze scanned over the person slowly, taking everything in. The clean white clothes he wore, the drip in his right arm, the fact he had no left arm, the silver metal on his shoulder that peeked out from under the sleeve of his tank top-

Wait what?

The world stopped around him at the sudden realization, his breath hitching.

_Was this...?_

_It couldn't be._

_Could it?_

"James?"

The man stiffened automatically and turned his head over his shoulder cautiously, deep blue eyes instantly widening and expression slackening in stunned recognition. 

"Perseus?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, school just started for me and it's my final year of highschool, so I'm probably gonna be focusing on that more than this. So please don't expect me to update too often from now on, 'cause it's a really important and busy year for me.
> 
> Well anyway, I based Percy's reaction and feelings loosely on my own before and during panic attacks, and the technique to calming down is actually one I use myself. It's really helpful, so if ever anyone-or yourself-is ever suffering from a panic attack, this method works for me, so you could always keep that in mind.
> 
> Anywho, that's all :3 Hope y'all enjoy.


	11. Chapter 10

Percy let the door swing shut again quietly behind him, taking a few tentative steps towards Bucky until he was standing barely a metre away from him. His eyes flickered over his face, drinking the sight of him in, while the other supersoldier did the same, the two of them looking shocked, yet in awe of the sudden appearance of the other. The familiarity and gentle recognition left the silence comfortable rather than tense however.

"So you-" Percy blurted out, at the same time James started off with,

"How did you-" They both stopped, sharing matching, nervous smiles. "You go first." He finally prompted gently.

Percy licked his lips, not tearing his eyes away for one moment. "Have you been hiding here the whole time?" He continued slowly. When Bucky nodded his confirmation, he carded his fingers through his hair, exhaling deeply. He should've known. After everything that had gone down because of the Accords and the UN bombing... Then again, who would've expected him to take refuge in a country where he had been the number one suspect in the killing their king?

"I've been in cryo since Steve found me." He explained.

He blanched at that, feeling the colour drain from his face and his eyes widen. " _What_?" He asked, unable to keep the incredulous tone from his voice.

His face softened and he gave him an attempt at a reassuring smile. "It was my choice, don't worry."

"You- _Why_?" His eyebrows drew together in a plainly stunned expression.

"You know what it's like." His smile turned sadder. "Having your will stripped from you entirely. Turned into a weapon when only a few words are spoken. Used without a second thought by people who don't care about anything except end results. You know how it feels." Percy's eyes dropped at that, hands tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie anxiously. "So you understand why I wanted them to keep me under. To keep _them_ safe. At least until they found a way to undo my training."

Percy paused at that, mind whirring with thought. He understood, he did. But still, _cryo_ of all things? He could remember how horrible, how terrifying going under had been each time. And he did it willingly? "Wait-if you're out of cryo now, then does that mean-"

"I don't know." He said, shoulders shrugging half heartedly. "They didn't tell me anything about it just yet... But we can hope, right?" They both went quiet for a little while again, Percy lost in his thoughts. If they had somehow found out how to reverse the brainwashing, did that mean it could maybe help him too? "I believe it's my turn."

"Oh right, right, of course."

"How did you get here of all places?"

Percy hesitated at that. "It's... It's a long story."

"I've been in cryo for who knows how long. I think I've got the time." 

It was... weird how easygoing and gentle James was being. The lines of tension that always stretched across his shoulders had disappeared, and the hard scowl that usually marred his face was replaced by soft smiles and barely visible laughter lines. It was kind of bizarre, but he actually enjoyed seeing him like this. Seeing him so at peace, not fighting for his life or as an emotionless soldier. He liked the sight of his ex-mentor being happy.

"I guess... It started with S.H.I.E.L.D-or Hydra-hell, I don't even know anymore. But they sent Tony Stark after me." A troubled frown settled on the Winter Soldier's face, but he didn't interrupt him. "He and a group of soldiers broke into my apartment one night, so I obviously fled and bumped into Wanda on the way. Uhm... Quite a lot of things happened after that, and she ended up helping me escape from Stark. She and the others brought me here and Steve told me that I'm apparently under their protection now."

Bucky was quiet for a while longer, looking surprisingly distant. "Do they know?" He finally made eye contact with him again. "About your past?"

He hesitated, before shaking his head. "No." He admitted quietly, before his voice became a bit faster and almost frantic. "But please, please don't tell any of them. They can't know. If they find out about me-"

"Perseus, don't worry. I won't tell them anything you don't want me to. We all have secrets we're scared of sharing." He reached his hand out and lay it on his shoulder gently, jangling the clear pipe that attached the drip to his wrist slightly. "I've got your back." His head tilted to the side slightly and a tiny smile tugged at his lips. "Just like I used to."

Percy pulled a face at that. "Well, maybe not _exactly_ like you used to, because we were both kind of murder-y back then." That managed to pull a soft laugh out of Bucky, a sweet sound that shocked him to his very core.

That was the first time he'd ever heard him laugh.

It was such a stark difference from how he used to know him.

_Percy quickly wiped his forehead with the back of his hand to keep the perspiration from falling in his eyes, before returning it to its defensive position in front of him. He took a step back as his mentor took a threatening step towards him, matching his footing almost precisely. His arms ached from the beating of the previous match that they had endured and he felt ready to drop at any given moment._

_He dodged to the side at the fist that suddenly flew at him, a glint of silver his only warning as the second arm came at him. He leaned back and tried to retreat, but a knee stopped him from doing so, slamming into his stomach and causing him to double over momentarily. How the hell was a man James's size able to move so quickly?_

_He threw his body to the side just in time to narrowly avoid another devastating blow, rolling over his shoulders to land on his feet and stand up again. Without giving him any time to recover or prepare for the second onslaught of attacks, James rammed his foot into his chest in a perfect high kick, sending him staggering backwards with a choked gasp. He barely managed to regain his footing before another punch cane flying at his face._

_This time he was better prepared._

_Instead of retreating, he lunged towards him, ducking his head to avoid his arm. He grabbed a strong handful of Bucky's shirt and yanked it forwards and down as hard as he could. Not expecting it, his mentor continued forward, unable to stop in time, as Percy jumped up, wrapping a leg over his shoulder and the other under his outstretched arm. In one smooth movement he brought his other leg up as well and locked his ankles together, twisted his body and threw himself backwards as forcefully as he could, tucking his chin against his chest and holding his arms protectively over his head as he did. The momentum all combined sent Bucky rolling over Percy and slamming back first into the floor with a resounding thud. Quite a good flying triangle maneuver, if he was being honest with himself. Bucky seemed too stunned at the sudden position change and he used those precious few seconds to his advantage._

_Before allowing him to recover, Percy tightened his legs together, putting as much pressure as he possibly could on Bucky's neck, trying to cut off the blood flow as quickly as possible. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer._

_He gritted his teeth with the strain when Bucky started pushing against his leg with his arm, feeling his limbs start to tremble with exertion as he fought against the much stronger man to keep his hold. He used his hands to hold his locked legs down for more support, but to his tired despair, he couldn't keep his metallic arm from slowly starting to pry itself loose. He could feel his jaw crack at how tight he was clenching it, trying his damned hardest to keep holding on._

_Bucky managed to free his bionic arm and, like a zombie rising from the grave, he slowly started pushing himself upwards, forcing Percy up with him and twisting his body awkwardly as they struggled against one another. He flipped the both of them over, and with one hand started pushing himself to his feet, bringing Percy along with him-who was still refusing to let go. Although he struggled initially to account for the added weight and cut off air supply, he still managed to stand up entirely again. In the different position he quickly moved his arms to instead press against Bucky's head, both to keep his balance and hopefully make the process go quicker. After all, the fight would only end when the one of them was unconscious. That was the rule._

_'Come on, god dammit!' Percy snarled internally. 'Just go down already!'_

_Bucky reached his hand back and grabbed him tightly by the shoulder. Percy cringed and squirmed slightly under the painful hold, but didn't shift his legs or arms even slightly. The fingers clenched against him hard enough that he thought his collarbone might actually crack under the pressure. He knew he wouldn't be able to escape now._

_But what was the Soldier-_

_Oh._

_Oh no._

_Before he knew what was happening, his back slammed into the ground, followed barely a millisecond later by his head cracking against the floor. Stars danced across his vision and his breath exploded from his lungs. But still, he clung onto his hold like a koala to a tree. Bucky got to his feet again, this time a bit quicker, then repeated his actions, allowing himself to drop to the ground with Percy practically cushioning his fall._

_The second time around he was forced to let go of his hold, legs accidentally loosening and arms dropping slightly at the sharp pain that exploded through his back and chest. Bucky forced his head free and let go of his shoulder, ripping himself out of his hold and slowly standing up._

_Percy lay on the floor for a second or two longer, simply trying get the air back in his lungs. Through the black spots in his eyes he saw a punch coming his way. Forcing himself to ignore the pain for now, he rolled to the side as quickly as he could, narrowly missing the metallic fist that slammed into the ground where his head had just been not a moment ago._

_He scrambled to his feet and brought his arms up protectively, falling into a defensive stance. His breath wheezed every time he inhaled and exhaled, and his chest burned like he was breathing liquid fire. He couldn't tell if he had a broken rib or if they were just bruised. He prayed it was the latter._

_Percy watched, dread in his stomach, as the Winter Soldier approached him slowly, with all the predatory appearance of a wildcat circling its prey. He tried to get a kick to the chest in, but Bucky blocked it easily, retaliating with a few quick punches. He caught the blows on his trembling arms, knowing that later he would have some nasty bruises everywhere._

_He lowered his arms slightly to block a strong kick from his opponent, but didn't manage to bring them up again in time for his mentor's metal hand to shoot out and grasp at his throat. He lurched his arm forward, causing him to trip backwards and slam into the ground once again, his sides twinging with the now familiar pain. He clutched and gasped desperately for a breath that he couldn't quite reach, scrabbling with shaky fingers at the metal hand that had his neck in a death squeeze._

_He struggled against him, but it only resulted in the fingers tightening their grip and getting a strangled groan out of his abused throat. Through blurry eyes he could see his mentor's face staring down blankly from above him, darkened eyes already claiming the match as a victory._

_He couldn't breathe._

_**He couldn't breathe**._

_With his teeth gritted, he started moving his body. He placed a foot against Bucky's chest, who didn't seem to think it was worth the effort to push off, followed by the other. With the last of his strength and energy, he thrust his legs upwards, propelling the supersoldier backwards and forcing the killer grip to rip away from his neck in an admittedly painful move._

_He immediately gulped in a greedy breath of much needed air, a strangled cough followed quickly by the sudden rush of air in his chest again. He rolled over onto his side, body going limp and trembling uncontrollably._

_He couldn't do this anymore._

_He didn't care about the fight, he didn't care that his handler was probably going to punish him severely for this, he just couldn't go on any longer._

_At the sound of steps approaching him warily, obviously confused as to why he wasn't getting up, he turned his head to look tiredly over his shoulder at his mentor. "Please," He croaked out, eyes glassy with pain and voice raspy and hoarse. "I can't do this."_

_For a moment a flicker of doubt passed over his face, eyebrows twitching as if he was going to frown, but a sharp voice caused his expression to fall blank again._

_"You know the rules. Finish him."_

_The last thing he remembered was a fist coming at his face without hesitation._

"Perseus?" A voice pulled him out of his thoughts, green eyes coming back into focus from where he had previously been looking into space. He automatically wiped at his nose with a hand and looked towards Bucky. He found a concerned expression staring back at him, a silent question being asked.

"Sorry, I'm all right." He responded, forcing a reassuring smile onto his face.

"You sure?" He prompted gently, eyes soft with compassion. Again he was struck by how weird it was to see him like this. Like seeing a bear caring for its cub. Almost sweet in a way.

Percy didn't know how to feel under that gaze of his, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. It's just... Memories." He explained vaguely. James seemed to understand immediately though, lips tilting downwards slightly with a sad sort of recognition.

"I know that our relationship has been... difficult in the past, I guess. But... I hope that we can fix that." A hopeful gleam entered his eyes as he looked up at him. Percy could only blink for a few moments, not quite believing what he was hearing. The man that he had once killed with, killed _for_ wanted to make things right. The only person he had ever felt a semblance of closeness towards for years before they had been forced apart because they were both becoming 'compromised'.

"I..." He swallowed, hating how small his voice was. "I'd really like that."

A smile brightened the other man's face, one that felt too contagious to not smile back at, even if his own was minute in comparison. He held out his good hand towards him. "Let's start over then. My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky." He introduced himself.

He stared at the limb with slight hesitance. This was the hand that had bruised him during training. The hand that had helped him up when he was down. The hand that protected him when he needed it. He took it in his own, shaking it as he looked up again, eyes meeting again. "I'm Percy. Percy Jackson."

He jerked away at the sound of a door opening, looking up to see a young woman enter the room, looking down at a thin, I-pad looking device in her hands. Panic thrummed through his veins and he shared a worried look with Bucky, but he only gave him a reassuring look in response. He tensed, looking like a deer caught in the headlights when she finally noticed him. Confusion clouded over her expression and she looked between the two of them slowly, eyes narrowing.

"Another coloniser I have to take care of?" She sighed heavily, but she didn't actually look very frustrated.

"Ah, no, I-" He paused, her words finally catching up to him. "Wait what?"

"Hmm?" She turned to Bucky in question instead, setting the electronic down onto an empty bed and crossing her arms over her chest. Despite being surprised at her sudden appearances, she didn't look in the least bit intimidating. Just the childishly irritated expression on her face was enough to make him relax a bit.

"This is Percy." He introduced for him, looking more amused than anything else by the confusion on his face. "He got lost and found himself in here." He put in. "Percy, this is Shuri. T'Challa's younger sister." Percy started at the hand that flew out and swatted the back of Bucky's head like she was chastising a particularly cheeky kid.

"Hey! You sibling-less people don't understand what it's like to be introduced as 'his sister' or whatever." She huffed, glaring at the Winter Soldier with an obviously fake heat in her eyes. "It's a dishonour on me, a dishonour on my family, and a dishonour on my cow."

Bucky seemed to find himself at a loss for words, much like himself. "Again," He started, catching the princess's attention. " _What_?"

A groan escaped her and she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, looking as though they had let her down immensely. "Why have none of you watched Mulan? What's this world coming to?"

'Mulan?' Percy mouthed to Bucky, who just shrugged in response, neither of them knowing what on earth she was talking about.

She seemed to let it go pretty quickly however with a single eye roll. "You're so disappointing, both of you. Mulan is one of the best Disney movies and no one can convince me otherwise."

"All... Right." He responded uncertainly, making it sound more like a question than anything else though.

"Ugh, just drop it." She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. "It's a pleasure to meet you Percy, and all that bla bla boring pleasantries." For being a princess, she didn't exactly act like one. Not that he was judging, of course. It was... Weirdly refreshing to see someone act so casual and at ease around him. In fact, it had been happening more and more lately, for some reason. First Wanda, then Steve, T'Challa and Bucky, and now Shuri. A domino effect of sorts. One that he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it. "Now shoo, I've gotta check everything's all right with old man Barnes over here and I need some space."

A smile tugged at his lips, knowing that there was no bite to her words. "Old man Barnes, huh?" He commented, ignoring the half hearted glare that the other man sent to him.

"Don’t you dare." He said, a slight hint of amusement edged his words, so he couldn't really take him seriously.

"Yeah yeah." He was about to leave the room when the door burst open suddenly, a frantic looking Steve barging in without any warning. Almost immediately he and Bucky locked eyes. Both of their expressions changed in an instant before his very eyes, into something that he didn't quite recognise.

"Buck." Steve's voice was softer than he had ever heard it-not that he'd known him for very long anyway-and his lips tilted up into a clearly affectionate smile. Relief filled his expression.

"Stevie." His mentor responded just as gently, eyes never leaving his. Percy slowly looked between the two of them in turns, his thoughts clouding over with unveiled confusion.

“How are you feeling?”

He watched their exchange curiously, noting the almost... tense feeling that flickered between them. If that was even the right way to describe the thick atmosphere in the room. It was... Weird, and he didn't quite understand it. He looked between the two of them slowly, taking in everything about them, trying to get a read on them. Anything to figure out a clue. It dawned on him.

Oh.

_Oh_.

His eyes widened and his eyebrows rose up, looking towards Shuri for confirmation on his theory. By the way she sent him an amused, if not exasperated grin, he knew he was right.

_'Well I'll be damned.'_ He mused, taking in Shuri's eye roll with an amused smile. He simply decided to take his leave, if only to give them some space, and saluted lazily to the princess, who mimicked him lazily in response. He slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. He wasn't entirely sure what to think about it. But he did know that he was glad. His ex-mentor deserved to be happy. And it was clear that Steve made him just that. It was rather funny to watch, actually. But, he wouldn't say anything to anyone, just in case. Although it was doubtful that there were people that didn't know.

But all in all, the whole meeting went... Well. Better than he had expected, honestly. He felt much lighter after the rather successful morning that he had had, despite his terrible night. He had... Allies? Yeah, he could call them allies. He had allies now. People who would help him. He hadn't had that since he was still under the control of Hydra. SHIELD. Whatever. And even then, they were just people who were making sure that one of their most successful assets didn't die. Nothing more, nothing less.

"There you are." He jolted slightly at the sound of Wanda's voice, glancing over his shoulder to see her walking towards him. Her hair looked a bit dishevelled and she had an almost glazed look in her eyes. Obviously not fully awake yet. He didn't really think about how she had found him, it wasn't important at that moment. "T'Challa told me you'd probably be wandering around somewhere."

"Yeah, I got a bit lost." He said, stopping in his place to wait for her to catch up to him. It wasn't really a lie, so he didn't quite feel guilty about it.

"I kinda gathered." She smiled, amusement edging her words. "Have you had breakfast?"

"I have. What about you?"

"No, not yet."

"Well then, let's go." He prompted her gently. "But you have to lead the way, I don't exactly know where to go."

"Right, of course," She nodded, reaching a hand up to wipe her eyes. "Come on." He followed her when she started walking again, slowing his pace down so that he remained at her side. Silence fell over the two of them like a blanket, the only sound being the quiet clicking of their shoes against the smooth tiled floor.

"Hey, can I ask you something?" Percy finally broke it. She raised an eyebrow in response. He knew she meant for him to continue with that tiny gesture. "Why weren't you with the others? When we bumped into each other, I mean. Steve mentioned that he had been looking for you too."

She went quiet for a while at that. So much so that he wasn't sure if he was actually going to get a response. He was resigning himself to the fact that they were going to remain in silence, when she finally spoke up again. "I was going to meet someone." She said quietly. He glanced over at her curiously. Meeting someone? "I… We had planned on meeting after a mission. The others knew about it, and they let me go, of course. I wasn't going to lie about it. I just wasn't supposed to be gone for as long as I was." He almost winced, knowing that that had been his fault. He was to blame for making her teammates worry about her. "I'm just glad they found us when they did."

"Yeah." He breathed out, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. He'd been in such a blind panic that he'd done something so incredibly stupid. But... It was because of that that all of this was happening right now. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. On the one hand, he'd gotten to see Bucky again and meet Captain America, which the inner child in him-despite being killed long, long ago-was chuffed about. But on the other hand, he knew that he was in much more danger than usual. Or rather, his current usual. He still had to find out why exactly people were after him suddenly. It had been almost two years since the last attempt from SHIELD or Hydra or whoever. He had thought that he had finally lost them. That he could live a normal life from then on. But, fate was a cruel thing. He'd learnt that the hard way.

He almost jumped at the harsh vibration that travelled through his leg. Immediately embarrassment followed through at how easily he got frightened, a sheepish smile flickering over his face when Wanda looked at him curiously. He fished out the phone in his pocket, not even remembering when he had put it in there. He must've been far too distracted. Well, no wonder. His morning had been terrible. But, a better question pushed to the front of his thoughts.

How the hell did someone have this number?

It was his burner phone. Used only in emergencies and for numbers that he alone knew. For connections, people that he had used to know. So who would have this number? Who would know it? It sent a chill down his spine, dread unfurling inside of him. The number that was shown on the otherwise very bland and old looking phone was one that he didn't even know.

"What's wrong?" He didn't look at Wanda as she spoke, but he knew his expression must've betrayed his unease.

"I don't know yet." He answered honestly. He pressed his thumb down on the answer button, hesitantly putting the device up to his ear. He paused for a moment, hearing only heavy breathing on the other line for a while. "Hello?" He asked slowly.

"Percy?" Relief washed over him. He knew the voice. It was Nico's boyfriend, Will Solace. He'd met the blond a few times before-got along with him even, despite being Nico's ex. He was just such an easy going, friendly guy that you couldn't help but like him.

"Will?"

A wheezing sound came from the other end, followed by a soft sob as the usually level headed man stumbled for words. "Percy, oh thank god I got through to you." A tinge of fear and panic came across when he spoke. Like he was in pain or frantic about something. That, along with the fact that he would never call Percy if it wasn't an emergency, set him on edge completely. Something was wrong. Something must've happened, especially if Nico wasn't even the one to contact him.

"Will, what's wrong?" He asked, trying to keep himself sounding reassuring rather than commanding.

"It's-It's Nico." He sucked in a breath audibly, voice shaking. 

His heart came to a shuddering halt in his ribcage. "What about Nico?" He demanded.

"They've got him, Percy. They've got him."


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I know, it's been far too long since I've updated. School and life has just been a bit hectic. I'm gonna try to update again this holiday, but I can't promise anything. Sorry in advance.  
> Any place that I have used in this story is a real place, I've just used google maps to help me out a bit. So if any details are off or wrong, it's because a) I've never been, and b) I've likely changed it for the sake of the story.  
> Anyway, that's about all for now. This is probably the longest chapter that I've written for this book, so I hope you're all appeased for now. Thanks.

The blood ran cold in his veins.

  
No.

  
No, this couldn't be happening.

  
How... How had they even found him?

  
For a few terse moments he couldn't formulate the words to speak, mind going blank in his panic. "Where are you?" He finally forced out, knuckles turning white from pressure at the grip he had on his phone. It was a miracle the crappy little thing hadn't broken in his grasp just yet.

  
"The-Our safehouse. The one in Hell's Kitchen." Will answered, his words almost slurring with his clearly audible exhaustion. "Please, we-he needs help. Please Percy."

  
Hell's Kitchen. Really? He felt the sudden urge to slap himself in the face and scream his aggravation to the world. Hell's Kitchen. He had been. Right. There. If only he had been able to stay a day longer, if only... He exhaled through his nose sharply, pushing that thought away for now. There were more pressing matters than kicking himself for his mistakes at the moment.

  
"I'm on my way, Will. Try to stay calm until I get there." He didn't wait for an answer on his behalf, instead ending the call and slipping the device into his pocket. Wanda was watching him quietly, as she had been doing throughout the call, her eyes wide with unveiled confusion, but her expression determined. Hopefully she would understand his urgency. "Wanda, I have to go. My friend is-"   
"I know. Where are we going?"

  
He paused, shooting her an incredulous look. "We...? You're not going anywhere, I am." He turned on his heel, quickly moving back down the hallway again, heading back towards where he had left James-Bucky. Bucky and Steve.

  
"Excuse me?"

He didn't look back at her, despite hearing her footsteps travelling after him and her unamused tone.

“You heard me, Wanda. This is my issue, I'm not going to let you throw yourself into danger for no reason.” If this was all true-which he was sure it was-this meant that Hydra, or whoever was posing as Hydra, had taken Nico. Will wasn't the type of person to lie or turn traitor and he knew it, so it had to be them. No one else would know about his connections to him. But even so, anyone who was even seen accompanying him may be in grave danger. He wasn't about to let that happen to Wanda, not after everything that she had done for him.

Her hand grasped his arm and yanked him back with more force that he had originally thought her capable of. She fixed him with a hard look, quirking her eyebrows. “Don't be stupid, Percy. I'm not going to let you do this-whatever it is-alone. It's clearly serious, and if you think I’m going to make you handle this alone, you're clearly dumber than you look. And besides, do you really think you could convince Steve to let you go anywhere without backup?”

She… had a point there. He pursed his lips, frustration welling up inside him like a storm. Why was she making this so hard for him? He wanted to protect them from his issues, but she was making it almost impossible for him. As would the others, he was sure.

“Just-fine.” He finally concluded, a huff of air leaving his lips and a frown darkening his expression. “Gods, you're persistent.”

A smile lit up her face despite his words, looking victorious. “I know. Now let's go get Steve. I'm sure we can convince him to let us go.” She started walking again, leaving him to hurry after _her_ this time.

Once again, he realized that she was right. It wasn't like Steve would just be willing to let him leave all of a sudden without a valid explanation, after all the trouble they went through for him. And more than that, he would need T’Challa’s permission… And a jet or something to get him back to New York. That was probably going to be the hardest part actually, now that he thought about it.

“Steve.” Wanda's voice pulled him out of his anxious thoughts and he immediately noticed Steve walking down the hallway to them. How had he missed him coming? He was _really_ off his game lately. “We need your help.”

Noticing the serious looks on their faces, the super soldier slowed down in his footsteps and looked at both of them in turn, a frown creasing at his eyebrows. “What's wrong?”

Seeing the prompting look Wanda had given him, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “I need to get back to New York as soon as possible.”

Confusion overtook the concern on his face. “What? Why?”

“I…” He hesitated. Should he tell him exactly what was going on, or be vague about it? The truth would come out eventually, but he wasn't sure if there was time to unpack all of his issues right now. “A friend of mine; something happened to him. I really need to get back before it's too late.”

Steve watched him silently for a few moments, his conflict visible in his far too expressive eyes. “I'm not… I don't know if you can go back right now, Percy.” He answered him honestly. “We can talk to T'Challa about it, but I'm not sure he'd be happy with you leaving. Not right now, at least. Tony is still after you, and Ross has got to be suspicious by now. It's probably safest if you stay here.”

Thaddeus Ross.

Why was his name so familiar to him? Probably because he knew that he was the one in charge of the Accords that had split the Avengers apart, but… It seemed like more than that. It was like he had known that name before all of that. Like a distant memory that he could taste on the tip of his tongue, but couldn't get to. Maybe that was for the best though. He could save prying into that train of thought for later.

“You don't understand, Steve.” He blurted out, hands clenching into fists at his sides. “He's… He's in danger. I have to go help him, or he's going to…” The words died on his lips. Nico would die. And it would be his fault. There was no motive for anyone to take him, after all. He was the reason for his abduction, and he could be the cause of his death. “Look, you can try, but you can't stop me from leaving. I _have_ to go.”

There was silence for a few tense moments, but then the super soldier nodded once sharply. “All right, then let's go.” Relief flickered through his body like a cool wave of water, soothing the anxious panic that had been burning in him as he had waited for his plans to be rejected. He followed the other two as they made their way through the maze of rooms and passages, somehow finding himself in a large, spacious room where T'Challa stood, talking to another woman that he didn't recognise. The king looked at the trio as they entered, quietly cutting the conversation he had been having to pause at the sight of them. Steve wasted no time, cutting to the chase quite abruptly. “Is there any way we can borrow another jet right now?”

A frown tugged at T'Challa's eyebrows at that, confusion flickering through his dark eyes. “What for?”

“I have to get back to New York.” Percy said, taking a step towards him.

No one spoke for a few moments, just letting the words hang in the air a bit awkwardly. “And… Why is that exactly?” He asked, his skepticism far too audible for his liking. He couldn't help but wince slightly at his hesitation.

“I… My friend's life is in danger.” He eventually continued, deciding to go with the truth finally. “There are some people that are after me, and they got him. I need to get back as soon as I can and find him.” Maybe this was going to come back to bite him in the ass later, but hopefully it would convince T'Challa enough to let him go. Nico's life was more important than his uncertainty about his revealing identity and his past completely. “I can tell anything you want to know later, but right now I have to get to him.”

Something he couldn't quite identify entered the king's eyes, and he looked almost… Satisfied…? Percy couldn't quite tell what it was, but it made him a bit uneasy. “You don't need to explain anything to me just yet, Perseus Jackson. Or should I call you Maelstrom?” He jolted at the sound of his full name, eyes going wide. How…? Did Natasha tell him already? “Wakanda has some of the most advanced technology in the entire world. Did you truly think your identity wasn't going to be brought to light eventually?” Despite being shell shocked by the revelation, he couldn't spot anything different about his expression. He wasn't… He wasn't threatened by him? Scared? Angry or furious perhaps? No… He didn't see any traces of that on his weirdly relaxed face. Percy… Didn't quite understand. But the king gave him no time to express his confusion or disbelief, instead he continued on smoothly. “You don't have to worry though. We'll talk more when you return.” Ah, there it was. The slight edge to his tone. The veiled warning that he had better come back and not just run off. Not that he was planning on doing so. He turned his attention to Steve barely a second later though, folding his arms behind his back. “My aircrafts are always available for you, Captain. I'll let them know to ready one up for you.”

A grateful smile adorned Steve's face at his words and he dipped his head. “Thank you. Oh, and if Sam comes looking for us, please tell him where we've gone for me. The same with Bucky.”

“Of course. Now go, your friend needs you.” He all but shooed them away. Percy didn't need a second chance, immediately turning to Steve expectantly. And, as he had hoped, he started leading them once again without further prompting. He knew that they must've had many questions for him, but they were keeping their curious thoughts to themselves. For now, at least. He counted his lucky stars for that.

He would've gotten lost within the first few minutes of traversing through the far too complicated palace. He was honestly lucky that he had a guide of sorts with him, otherwise he would never have found his way out. Or, not easily, at least. But sooner than he had realised, they were already at the entrance and heading towards the hangar. It still surprised him at how easily they had all given in and just let him go so willingly. Were they always this trusting and giving? Or was it just with him? That in particular didn't make sense to him, but he chose not to think too hard on that. Not now. Not with Nico being such a pressing matter right now.

He caught sight of Wanda giving him a small, reassuring smile as they approached the same jet that he had arrived in only yesterday. He couldn't quite find it in himself to return the smile however.

• • •

Percy shuddered as the aircraft finally landed with a soft, almost unnoticeable bump against the ground. That flight had been far too long and far too tense for him to even consider relaxing. The longer he took to get to Will, the longer _they_ had Nico for. Not for the first time, he found his mind cursing himself for being so far away during all of this. If only he'd stayed just a day longer…

Almost as if sensing his thoughts, a hand placed itself on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Looking up, he realized that the reason was probably because of the dark frown that had settled over his features while he had been lost in his own mind.

“He's gonna be alright, Percy. We'll find him.” Steve murmured, his voice warm and comforting.

He let out a long breath, finding himself nodding his agreement. Yes. They were going to find him. They had to. He didn't know what he would do if they didn't. “Yeah… Thanks, by the way.” He said, gratitude shining through his eyes. An emotion he had been feeling a lot of lately. “You guys really didn't have to do this for me, but… But I'm grateful that you did.”

“Of course.” Steve flashed him a smile, a look that seemed just so natural and normal on his face. He'd never have thought so until he met him, but now he couldn't imagine him without that soft, warm look on his face. “We look out for each other.”

Percy still didn't quite understand that. He didn't think he ever would. His past training was far too embedded deep within his bone weary body for him to ever truly do so. But for now, he just accepted it with about as much gratitude as he could express in his own-if not a bit minimal-way.

“So where exactly are we going?” Wanda finally spoke up, reaching her arms far in front of her as her way of waking her limbs back up. It had been a long, quiet flight; none of them talking or moving much. He wouldn't be surprised if she had fallen asleep for the duration of it, in fact.

“A safehouse.” He answered, looking around at the buildings surrounding them slowly. The area was familiar, seeing as he had been to the safehouse before-albeit, a long time ago. It shouldn't take long for him to jog his memory. “I have to check in with another friend and see if I can figure out where they've taken him.” He eyed the sign that had the street name written on it in bold, remembering vaguely that he was in fact in the right place. He started walking, assuming that they were going to follow. “It shouldn't be far.”

“Do you know who took this friend of yours?” Steve asked, taking a place at his side as they walked. He could see Wanda doing the same on the other side of him, keeping pace evenly.

A grimace twisted his mouth downwards. “I think it may have been Hydra.”

“Hydra?” Steve repeated. He sounded shocked, but… Dubious at the same time. “It can't be.” He shook his head, sounding entirely steadfast in his claim.

Percy blinked. “Sorry?”

“It can't be. Hydra was taken down years ago. I made sure of it.” He looked at Steve, his confusion slowly morphing into unease. If Hydra was finally destroyed… Then who had been hunting him down? _Was_ it actually SHIELD? He'd always known it had been a possibility, but one that he had always thought was the least likely. Always put to the back of his mind instead of looking into. Had that been another mistake on his part?

“Why would Hydra be after you though?” Wanda finally spoke up again, raising an eyebrow as she looked to him for answers.

“It's… A long story.” He answered her rather dismissively. Still trying to avoid the truth for as long as possible. Even if he knew it was going to come out soon anyway. Call it a habit, if you will. “I'll tell you about it later.” Maybe. “But right now, we're here.” He stopped in front of a rather dilapidated one story house. The windows that they could see were all smashed or broken. Some from the outside, and some from the inside, as he noticed by the uneven amount of broken glass that littered the sidewalk. The white paint was chipped and charred, especially around the doorframe and the windows.

His hand automatically reached for his gun, only to find his fingers grasping on thin air. He gritted his teeth, frustration once again making its place in him when he realized that he had left everything that he currently owned back in Wakanda. He _really_ was getting rusty. And one of these days, that was likely to be his downfall.

He walked towards the door, casting wary glances at the other two behind him. They both seemed to understand his silent signal and both tensed, falling into defensive positions on either side of the doorway. He curled his fingers around the door handle, pausing when he heard a voice inside.

Wait. Make that two voices.

His eyes narrowed. The voices were too muffled to hear the words or to determine whether or not one of them was Will, but he could definitely identify the fact that there were two people conversing with each other. One of the voices hushed the other and they both fell silent immediately.

Taking that as his cue, Percy shoved the door open with about as much force as he could muster without breaking the whole thing off of its hinges. Furious green eyes darted around, fingers unconsciously flexing at his sides, his body prepared to call upon his power at any second if need be. But instead of enemies, he found a scene that he wasn't exactly expecting. Will sat on a chair at the piece of broken up furniture that used to be a table, face smeared with hastily scrubbed away dust and old remnants of dried blood that had obviously tried to be cleaned some time earlier. Next to him stood a man that he could not identify in the slightest. A man, dressed in all red and-most peculiarly-wearing some type of helmet that covered his eyes and had two small devils horns poking out from them. He was looking directly at him, despite him not being able to see his eyes through what should've been the helmets eyeholes. It was… disconcerting, to say the least. And definitely weird.

“It’s you, oh thank god.” Will breathed, sitting straight up. He did so with a wince and moved a hand to his side, clearly nursing some kind of wound that Percy couldn't see beneath his shirt.

“So this is the friend you were talking about.” The red clad man commented, before shifting his sight past him and towards Steve and Wanda. “You didn't tell me he was bringing guests.”

“I didn't know.” Will responded, relaxing again in his seat when his pain became a bit too much for him.

“Who is this?” Percy asked, still watching the other man cautiously and not making a move towards his friend. One could never be too wary, after all.

“People call him the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. He's a hero in these parts.” Will answered, looking towards the man with a small, if not exhausted smile. “He helped me, Perce. I probably would've bled out if not for him.”

The man turned his head towards him slightly as he spoke, his lips-the only visible part of his face, tilting downwards slightly. “I still arrived too late though. By the time I got here, they were already gone.”

“Still. He found me hiding in the wreckage of this place and helped me patch myself up.” Will glanced at his companions curiously, eyebrows raising slightly. “Is that… Captain America?” He asked, a slightly awed tremor to his voice. The superhero gave him a tiny smile and a small, awkward wave.

“It is.” Percy didn't let his guard down, but still approached Will slowly, keeping an eye out for the unknown man that the medic spoke so highly of. Will was generally a pretty good judge of character. So if he trusted him… Then Percy would tolerate him. For now, at least. “Now tell me exactly what happened. And try not to leave anything out, okay?”

Will, bless his heart, did try his best to be as informative about the attack as he could be. But Will had never been a violence kind of guy. The way his hands trembled and his eyes went glassy as he spoke was a clear indication of that. It's not to say he can't hold his own in a fight, because he definitely can. Percy just knew him to be one of those people who always wanted to take the peaceful route when possible.

“They came without warning. One moment Nico and I were eating breakfast, and the next thing I know, there were windows breaking and tear gas was filling the room. Then came the flash bangs and frag grenades. They weren't trying to be careful, that's for sure. There were…” He paused, eyebrows furrowing as he fought hard to recall exactly. “There were eight of them. None of them wore anything distinctive that I could identify them by, and none spoke. They all had the same black combat gear and wore helmets. If I didn't know any better, I would've guessed them to be some kind of SWAT team.” He grimaced, hand automatically pressing onto his side again. “They had assault rifles. I don't know what kind though, I'm not good at identifying that kind of thing. Nico and I tried to defend ourselves with whatever weapons we could muster up, but we weren't a match for them; of course we weren't. We didn't expect it, we couldn't even prepare for an attack.” His voice caught in his throat and he took a moment to gather himself, clearly still extremely shaken up. “We did what we could against them, but they overwhelmed us quickly. They… One of them had some kind of tranquilizer gun. They shot Nico down and took him. I… I couldn't even do anything about it. Then they just left again. They didn't care about me at all. They were only after him. Not long after that, Daredevil found me, delirious and half dead from blood loss, and helped me.”

Percy's expression softened fractionally and he knelt at his friend's side, resting his hand on his knee in the only act of comfort that he was able to provide at the moment. “Will, you did what you could.” He said quietly, catching his shining eyes, bright with unshed tears, with his own. But unlike him, his eyes shone with a quiet rage. “I'm going to find him. He's going to be alright.” And whoever did this would pay.

Will nodded slowly, looking like he was a decade older than he truly was in that moment. Again Percy regretted ever dragging Nico into his messes. Despite not having contact for nearly two years, he had still been at risk. And he should've known that. Should've kept an eye on him.

“Percy,” Will started, worry dominating his usually gentle, kind face. “Whoever these people are, they're trained well. They were in and out in a matter of minutes. They were _good_. You have to be careful, okay?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “I'm always careful.”

Will snorted at that and shook his head, a relieved sort of amusement finally cracking its way through his hardened yet agitated expression. “Yeah, yeah, smartass. Just… Just be _more_ careful, okay? These guys… I've got a bad feeling about all of this.”

Percy stood up, glancing towards ‘Daredevil’ unconsciously. The man was like a shadow, just standing there in silence, watching them all from those blank eyeholes of his helmet. How was he seeing through them? “Can I borrow your laptop?” He asked Will, tearing his gaze away from the supposed ‘hero’ to look at his friend again. Steve and Wanda remained near the door, looking around occasionally and keeping an eye out for him. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for them having his back.

“Yeah, of course.” Will started to push himself to his feet, wincing deeply as he did.

“No-stay right there. Just tell me where it is.” He stopped him before he could get too far, seeing the pain etched across his face and the tense line of his shoulders.

A minute smile of thanks tugged at his lips as he slumped down in his seat again. “It's-It’s in my room.”

Percy nodded and quickly made his way through the debris and broken furniture that littered the once pristine house. As promised, his laptop lay on his desk, already powered up. Good. Less time wasted. He took a seat at the swivelling office chair, fingers immediately flying to the keyboard.

It may have been a while since he had needed to hack into anything, but the skill had still remained with him. Breaking into the network was a piece of cake, compared to what he had needed to do in the past.

It's strange how many people don't even realize how much is caught on security cameras. Ranging from traffic cameras to store security footage, no one can hide from the cameras that sat in plain sight. Not even him, though he had once tried hard to avoid them at all costs. He had quickly learnt that it was impossible to do so, and so simple that people barely ever thought to look through it. If the men were anywhere in the area, he would know about it.

So that's what he did, skipping through all of the footage that he could get his fingers on of the past few hours. At some point Wanda had come to join him in the room, taking a seat on the bed, but never once speaking up. She understood the severity of the situation, and so didn't interrupt his work. And by the time he had found what he was looking for, a headache had started to form from staring at the screen for so long and Wanda was almost dozing off.

“Found them.” He murmured; the first words he had spoken in nearly an entire hour. _That_ caught Wanda's attention immediately. She leaned forward in an attempt to catch a glimpse of what he was seeing. A group of eight men dragging a limp figure out of an SUV with tinted windows and towards some kind of building. The unconscious man had a sack of sorts over his head, but Percy knew immediately who it was. He could identity that aviator jacket anywhere. He had been the one who had gotten it for him, after all. It was definitely Nico.

He paused the feed, zooming in on the corner of the grainy image and squinting. Half of a word was visible. ‘Fairyt’. He pulled up a tab, going into maps and trying to search up any type of business that may have begun with those letters in the area. There was only one thing that popped up.

“Fairytail Lounge.” He frowned, reading over the description quickly. A gay night club. Why would they take him there? Was it some kind of cover for a base of operations of sorts? Whatever the reason, it didn't matter. He quickly memorised the route and then shut the laptop down, finally standing up. He winced slightly, his legs stiff from his inactivity. “Well, I've got a lead. It's the best I've got, so we should go.”

Wanda immediately sprang to her feet, once again looking wide awake within a matter of seconds. “You know, I should be more concerned than I currently am that you know how to hack.” She commented dryly, pulling an almost amused eye roll out of him. “I guess it just adds to how mysterious you are.”

“Mysterious? No. I prefer to be called… Cryptic. Oh, or maybe enigmatic.” She snorted and shook her head at that, following him as he left the room. He followed the sound of quiet conversation to find Steve and Will sitting together, talking with each other quietly. Daredevil was nowhere to be seen. He must've left at some point. Both blond's looked up when he entered the room, falling silent quickly. “Ah, you must be done. Daredevil left already. He said that you guys would be able to handle it without him.” He explained. He was disappointed about that fact, if he was reading him correctly. Which he was sure he was. But barely a moment later he replaced it with a look of quiet hopefulness. “Did you… Find anything?”

“Yeah, I've got a lead. I believe they took him to a nightclub a few blocks away.” Bold of them not to take him far from the scene of the crime. But then again, he didn't understand quite a few things about them or their reasoning. Why kidnap Nico in the first place? Why not kill Will when they had the chance? Why not be more careful about where they were heading? He just didn't know enough, and it made him all the more uneasy.

“Then we should go.” Steve stood up, expression turning into one of determination; a look that he was becoming weirdly used to at this rate. “The longer we take, the more danger your friend is in.”

“He's right. You should take my car to get there quicker. It's parked right outside.” Will dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, before tossing it over to Percy. “Oh, and I thought you might want these too.” From his other pocket he produced three small earpieces. “I… I don't know if you need them, but just in case.” He gave one to Steve and another to Wanda as they passed him, then threw the final one to Percy. “They're pretty easy to use.”

He caught the keys with one hand and the earpiece with the other, curling his fingers around them and flashing him a grateful half-smile. “Thanks, Will. This is helpful.” He placed the small, pale coloured device snugly in his ear, pressing the small button on the side to activate it as he did. A soft beep rang in his ear quietly, then went quiet again. He watched as the other two put them in place as well, another small ‘beep’ appearing, indicating that they were connected. “Testing?” He asked, looking to the others for confirmation.

“I can hear you.” Steve's dual voice came in through the earpiece, and from his mouth himself.

“Me too.” Wanda established, her voice splitting in two as well in a weird, slightly discomforting way.

“Great. Then I think we're good to go.” He made a move to the door, only to be stopped by Will's call.

“Percy,” He started. And when he looked over his shoulder to see him, he could see the worry shining through his face. “Remember, be careful… And thank you.”

He only dipped his head once in acknowledgement, before disappearing through the front door. He never had been any good at accepting gratitude. Never knew what to say or how to react. Anyways, Will could thank him properly when they actually had Nico back again.

As promised, the car was parked out front and he quickly got to work on unlocking it and taking his place in the driver's seat. Not to any surprise, Steve took the passenger seat, and Wanda sat in the back of the car. And before long they were driving to the destination that he had memorised.

“So, what's the plan?” Steve finally spoke up, his voice coming from both sides of his head. Once again he was reminded of how weird it was to hear someone's real voice and their disembodied voice speaking at the same time.

“Uh…” He paused for a moment, unsure of how to answer that question. He honest to god hadn't thought that far. “We should get in and split up to cover more ground.” He finally formulated the shadow of a plan in his mind. Despite it being an impromptu one. “We have to search the place from top to bottom. He has to be there somewhere. And if not, then there has to be at least some sort of clue as to where he could have gone.” He saw Steve nod out of the corner of his eye, and so assumed his plan was relatively good, despite it being so basic. “Nico is pretty short, about 5’6 in height. He's got black hair, dark eyes, and an pale, olive skin tone. He'll probably be wearing a black aviator jacket with a fake fur lining on the collar. If anyone sees him, contact me immediately.” He could see the both of them nod their agreement.

He parked as close to the Fairytail Lounge as he dared, leaving the keys in the ignition and the doors unlocked. He had a feeling that no one would try their luck in trying to steal or rob the car. Call it intuition… Or knowing that another hero-or anti-hero, he had no idea-was somewhere nearby, watching over the area. He left the car, feeling a bit comforted at having both Wanda and Steve at his side. He didn't know what he would do without them, in all honesty. They were a silent, yet constant support in his otherwise insane life that he had never realized he'd needed. And wanted, despite him only knowing them for a few days now. Not that he would ever say any of that out loud.

“This is it.” He murmured, glancing between the two of them as he came to a stop in front of his destination. A muffled, steady beat pumped from behind the closed door of the club, and above them flickered a large sign that blared the words ‘Fairytail Lounge’ in bright pink neon lights. No one stood at the door guarding it or anything, so he simply opened it, assuming that he could just enter.

Immediately he was assaulted with an odd mixture of darkness and bright flashing lights that changed colours erratically and without any warning. He grimaced and slipped into the nightclub, eyes trying to adjust between the two clashing sides of light and darkness. There were no windows or anything leading to the outside the club, besides the door, so everything was in pitch blackness, despite it still being day. The only thing that lit up the place and the sinuous bodies that danced and moved along to the almost deafening music was the disco lights that punctuated through the darkness. He looked over his shoulder, managing to make out his companions through the multicoloured lights that occasionally passed over them. He saw a nod from Steve, and then a reassuring smile from Wanda, and pushed his way through the draping decorative curtains, starting to weave his way through the party that was raging like it was already the middle of the night.

He slipped through a pair of dancing guys, cringing when hands trailed over his chest and arms intrusively as he did so. He just ducked his head and pushed through, trying to keep an eye and an ear out for any odd behaviour. It was just unfortunate that his eyes had to keep adjusting to a different sort of light every other second and the music thumped louder than his own heartbeat. He could feel his skin crawl unpleasantly and the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

There was just something inherently _wrong_ about this place.

Eyes flashed in the darkness, hungry and cold. A mass of bodies writhed like snakes together, twisting and reaching. Shadows stretched out to tug at him with clawed, jagged fingers. Bright lights blinded him with their fluctuating pulses. Both fighting for dominance in a way that made his head hurt. He could feel the sweat dripping down the side of his face and his mouth starting to go dry.

He swallowed in an effort to get at least some moisture back down his scratchy throat; trying in vain to get some respite from the overwhelmingly thick feeling of his blood moving sluggishly in his veins and his head that had started to pound unbearably in time with the pulsating music. It was too much. Too loud.

_It was too loud_.

He reached a hand up, shielding his squinted eyes as best he could as he shoved his way through the rest of the mainly guy filled dance floor. He shuddered as he finally managed to get through. He tried to push the rising panic down with a frustrated noise-not too unlike a snarling beast, and managed to do so to some extent, much to his own relief. He could still feel it curling and sitting heavily somewhere deep within him, waiting to resurface again. But for now, he was able to get ahold of himself.

At some point during his internal panic attack he lost the other two, but he didn't let himself dwell on that fact for too long. They were meant to split up, after all. He clenched his jaw, steeling himself. He'd done countless missions before. He didn't know why this one in particular was getting him so worked up. Maybe it was because of the fact that it was Nico.

Nico was the one getting hurt.

Nico was the one that could be dead for all he knew.

And it was most definitely his fault.

He forced himself out of his own head, trying to regain at least some smidgen of control over himself. He had to think of this as a regular mission. He had to push the thoughts of Nico out. He had to be mechanical and calculated about this.

He had to be Maelstrom for now.

Settling into the monstrous role that he had imposed upon himself was scarily easy. It disturbed him at how simple it was to cut off the side of him that felt. That cared. That _worried_. Or it would've, if he hadn't been so focused on his mission.

Cold eyes tracked over the area slowly, quickly settling on a sign that he hadn't previously noticed. Back rooms. As suspicious a place as any, in this place.

He made his way towards it, ignoring any calls or looks he received from party goers and waiters alike as he did. He didn't know where Steve or Wanda were, but that wasn't his concern right now. He pushed through the door that had ‘VIP Entrance Only’ labeled on a golden plate, taking no notice of it in the slightest. He stepped out into a long hallway, allowing the door to swing shut slowly behind him. The walls and floor shone a deep red from the coloured lights that dotted along the ceiling occasionally, barely enough to be considered good lighting, but still enough to allow his eyes to adjust easily. The end of the hallway opened out into another darkened room, a hazy man-made fog drifting through the air and hiding a lot of its contents from his view.

A few doors decorated the otherwise bland walls. They all looked the same. No numbers. No names. Nothing. Nothing at all to identify one from the other. Likely for a specific reason, but one that he didn't know.

His footsteps faltered at the sight of a guy disappearing through the fog, small in stature and wearing an all too familiar black jacket with a faux fur lined collar. He inhaled sharply, trying to catch a glimpse of the figure again.

Was it him?

Well, only one way to find out.

He walked down the hallway, eyes trained on where he had seen him last. It opened out into another large room. There was the same kind of lighting, giving everything a bloodied and mysterious look. A few people sprawled out over lavish red couches or moved lazily with the music on the smaller dancefloor. A select few sat at the bar, talking in pairs with bodies pressed together and lips locked. There was a weird vibe to the place that he didn't quite feel all that comfortable with. A sensual, yet ominous one. And the fog just made everything seem all the more out of place, and almost outlandish in a way.

He scowled through the haze of machine produced smoke, just managing to catch another glimpse of him. He immediately followed, hoping that his intuition was right.

“Percy?” He could hear someone saying his name in his ear, beyond the almost deafeningly loud music. “Percy... read me?” Was that… Steve? He automatically pressed a hand to his ear, trying his best to be able to hear him better. “We… him… me?” He cut out for a moment though, falling silent after a few crackles of static. That's not good news. Hopefully it was only a temporary problem.

A frown creased his brows and he quickened his pace when he realized that he had slipped into another backroom and out of sight. He knew he couldn't lose him. He pushed through the door that had just begun to swing closed again and stepped into the room.

He winced and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to get the spots out of them from the drastic change in lighting. This room was brightly lit up; a huge contrast to the other rooms that his eyes had already adjusted to. It made his eyes sting a bit and his head throb, but he pushed through it and opened his eyes again.

It was… An empty room.

“-ercy! Can... hear...?” He reached a hand up again, pressing the ear piece. Steve's voice was difficult to decipher in between the bursts of static, but he could just barely make out what he was trying to say. “We… him. We found Nico.”

His stomach sank and his eyes snapped fully open despite the almost blinding light.

They had found Nico?

Then who had he been following?

He jerked forward, stars dancing across his vision and a sharp pain bursting over the side of his head. His legs collapsed from beneath him a moment later. And the last thing he saw was the floor rushing up to meet him, before everything went dark.


End file.
